Take-Off
by strangevip
Summary: At 26 years-old, Damon Salvatore is known as the man who has seen the whole world. He's restless and lives by his own rules. But when he meets the girl he's going to spend all summer with, Elena Gilbert, he finds himself breaking them one by one. He has two options. Option 1 is to stop everything before it's too late. Option 2 is to suck it up and enjoy the ride...
1. Aloha

**A/N:** _ **Hey guys**_ **!**

 **First of all, thank you so much for stopping by and taking the time to read this story. I must warn you though; this is my very first attempt at writing fanfiction, so I apologize in advance if it gets way too painful for your poor eyes to handle.**

 **To say I'm a huge fan of fanfictions would be an understatement, and I've always wanted to write one of my own, and be proud of it. So I made up stories in my head and literally came up with full sentences, and it sounded quite good, but every single time I'd work up the courage to start typing, I'd end up like: nahh, it's so not for me. I'm way much better at reading.**

 **But,** _ **because there's always a "but",**_ **ever since** _ **TeeVeeDee**_ **took Elena away from us *siiiigh*, I've got this idea stuck in my head, and I couldn't not try it. I can do this, right?**

 **Anyway, I think we're all so sick of this crazy shit happening in our beautiful world, and I hope this story will help us step away from our lives for just five minutes;** _ **TIME OUT**_ **as someone once said…**

 _Summary: Life holds no secrets for Damon Salvatore anymore. At 26 years-old, he's known as the man who has seen the whole world. He's restless and lives by his own rules, the number one being: No Attachment. But when he meets the girl he's going to spend all summer with, Elena Gilbert, he finds himself breaking them one by one. He has two options. Option 1 is stop everything before it's too late. Option 2 is to suck it up and enjoy the ride… Delena_

 _It's ALL HUMAN, and rated M for languages and later chapters._

* * *

 **CHAPTER I** : _Aloha_

This is going to be a hell of a long summer.

I don't know why, probably because I'm the world's dumbest man, but I agreed to spend the next four months with my brother and his girlfriend, in Hawaii.

Can't wait.

When he first asked me, I said no, that I was certainly not up for it and he seemed to have dropped the idea. I thought we'd never talk about it again, that it was all clear, but a week later, he casually started asking questions about my plans for the summer.

 _Real_ convincing, Stefan.

He went on and on about how he wanted us to spend time together, like we used to, saying that I was just being selfish and not caring enough about him, until it got ridiculous.

 _Please, we're gonna have fun, Caroline really wants to meet you, it's Hawaii and you can't say no to that, come on Damon, I know you want to,_ and blah blah blah…

Okay little bro', I'll be there.

I shouldn't really be complaining, because apparently he rented the biggest and most expensive house of the island, and it's been a really long time since we've last seen each other, but… I never stay this long in the same place, with the same people. Not anymore.

It's just not part of my routine.

But Stefan really wants me there, and the thing is, I can't refuse him this, not after all the shit I've put him through. And maybe he's right, it cannot be that bad and we're probably gonna have fun. Besides, I'll finally get to meet Caroline, also known as the sunshine of his life.

I grew up and lived in New-York, but at 23 I ran away, and never went back.

Not even once.

There is so much energy and power everywhere in this city, and there once was a time when that loud, crowded and busy city used to feel like home, because yes, it was my home. Being able to go to a different bar every day of the year without repeating, always finding something open, 24 hours a day, firmly believing that New-Yorkers live longer than anyone else…

This was my life. And I had a pretty decent job that payed really well, analyzing and studying the production and distribution of resources, goods, and services, but it wasn't as fulfilling as I thought it might be. Not in terms of money, because _that_ has never been a problem, but it was more about personal satisfaction.

One day, it just became too much. Too stressful, too overwhelming, too everything and I was suffocating. I didn't belong there anymore, just sitting and being paid for overtime work, and I couldn't stand one more second being stuck in this life.

I needed something new, something refreshing. The world is full of wonders, we all know it, but I wanted to see it, feel it, and so I left and never went back.

There are so many places I've been to and lived in. Some of them I didn't even know existed. Others I never thought I'd go to. I walked, ran, fell and explored the planet, always thirsty for more, from the most tropical islands to the coldest countries.

I met people I vowed I'll never forget. They gave and shared with me the little they have, and I've always been greeted like a friend. People give their time to you, welcome you with open arms into their homes, lives and families, and invite you to dinner and weddings. They don't care if you're a stranger, they're just glad you're visiting their country, and when you're leaving, they ask you if you want to stay more, and if you had a great time, and this is what I love about my life.

These people taught me everything I am today, and I'm proud to say that I learned more from them than I ever did in school, while sitting in a chair, drawing on tables and listening to teachers talking about rambling shit, and saying pointless things of no particular interest.

Opening up and adjusting to new ways of life is the best part of travelling. I got to learn and experience new languages, cultures and customs as I went along, and there's nothing more incredible and extraordinary.

And even if sometimes it gets hard, and I start questioning everything, I remind myself that I did the right choice by choosing this life; because when you sit down for a short time with people living in the so called ' _dangerous countries_ ', you realize that money and material goods aren't necessary for life to function. It's hard to even put into words, but there's something about these moments that makes you see the world a little bit differently.

Going home was not an option.

Stefan was mad at me in the beginning because I left without a goodbye. Just a note saying _I can't do this anymore. I don't know when I'll be back. Don't worry about me and take care of yourself._

He didn't stop calling me at first, trying at all costs to reach me and get a hold of me, but I couldn't talk to him. I didn't want to have to explain things. I couldn't.

He kept on letting me voicemails, saying how much of a coward I was, that running away wasn't a good solution, that I wasn't thinking, and that I'll end up regretting my choices. But then, he'd tell me how much he was missing me, screaming that he was worried sick, and if I just answered the damn he'd stop calling, but I still couldn't talk to him.

And one night, he got so drunk that he called me crying, cursing at himself, and affirming that if I asked him, he would've come with me, and that he's so tired of my shit. It all became too much eventually and I couldn't handle hearing things like that anymore , because it just made me question myself, wondering what could've happened if I haven't left, and it wasn't right.

I threw my phone away, and went back to what I've become so good at: exploring new places. Because I couldn't possibly let my mind go there again. I left to forget _everything._ I was past this.

And yes, it was hard.

How could it not be hard when you're all alone?

I didn't have anyone to share this experience with, and I know it's my entire fault, but still.

The families I occasionally met _did_ make me feel whole. They become your confidents for as long as you let them, they listen to what you have to say and ask about you, wanting to know more about your life and culture, that's so different from theirs, but deep down you know it's the last you're gonna seem them.

And as soon as I leave a place, I'm back at being alone.

People always ask me why I'm alone, why I don't bring someone with me and I'll just shrug and act like none of this matters to me.

 _Friends?_

I'm not exactly the friendly type. Ric is my best friend. We still talk from time to time, and it's all good between us, but he has a life in New-York, and yeah I'm not gonna lie, I would've love travelling with my buddy. But I couldn't ask him to give up everything, not for fun. I'm not that stupid.

 _Family?_

Stefan is the only family I have. He was only 18 and still in high-school when I left, and again I'm not stupid enough to ruin his future.

 _Love?_

Yeah, what is love?

Sure, I had a bunch of meaningless 'girlfriends' in the past, but it wasn't love. I was young, and wanted to have fun, just like any normal breathing guy in his damn twenties. And it still isn't on my top priority list. With all the travelling stuff, I don't have time for this shit.

So yeah, I'm alone.

But these people I got to meet on my way, well, they explained me things I was too selfish to understand. They sort of opened my eyes, and I realized that nothing, _nothing_ , should come before family. Nothing is more important.

I found a paper, a pen and wrote what was on my mind. _Every single thing_. The reason I left, a list of places I went to, things I saw, learned, and experienced, and people I met… I didn't want to keep those things to myself anymore. All of my new life was written down.

PS: _I love you brother. I promise I'll call you as soon as possible- which means when I'll find a new phone. Damon._

I sent the letter to Stefan, and kept on my promise. I called him. And every time we'd talk, it wouldn't be about the time spent apart. He'd just ask me how I was, wanting to know if I was having fun. He had never really told me to come back, but he'd ask: _When will I get the chance to see you?_ And still no answer from me.

The truth is, I didn't want to go back yet. I wasn't ready, and I'm still not ready.

So I simply asked him, _Why don't_ you _meet me somewhere?_ And he accepted.

Just two weeks later, the Salvatore brothers were reunited, and it felt good to finally have someone at my sides.

Stefan couldn't stay more than two months because of his life and college, but we sure tried to make the best of it.

I took him to places I knew he'd love to see, we climbed hills and trees, just like we used to as kids, and most of all, we lived. Like there was no past and no tomorrow.

He eventually had to go back, and this time, I did say goodbye, but we both knew it was a ' _See you soon'_ kind of goodbye. He asked me to go home with him, but I didn't say anything, just smiled, and watched him made his way into the airport.

But something changed on my way to the next destination. I thought back to my few days with Stefan, and it brought back old memories, but thinking about them didn't feel that painful anymore.

This was the moment I knew.

Yes. I'll settle down one day, but I just need more time.

And back to travelling I was.

I kept in touch with Stefan after that, always updating him and sending him pictures. He'll tell me about his life and this new job he got, wanting to quit but not really having the balls to really do it. He'll also bring up this girl he met in a night club, who was apparently so drunk and totally wasted to notice him, because _Mrs. Queen of the Make-Up world_ got the second place in a beauty contest; and he'll send me pictures of the apartment he bought, closer to his workplace and across Caroline's model agency, telling me that there's nothing more he could ever want.

I was happy to hear that my baby bro' finally took life in his own hands.

I left him when he needed me the most; because I was a fucking self-centered 23 years-old bastard, but he swears that it's okay. That if leaving made me forget and ease the pain, then I did what was best for me.

I don't agree with him, because I could've waited some more, and I just had to be there for him, act like the brother I was supposed to be and he wanted me to be, and support him. And maybe we would've find peace together, but I can't go back. No one can.

And there's one thing you should know about me: I never regret anything in my actions and convictions.

Sure, there are some things I could've done differently, some mistakes I shouldn't have made, some words I shouldn't have said, but it's too late now, and I don't regret any of it. Not a single thing I've done, because in the end, it led me to where I am today, and…

" _ **This is the final boarding call for passenger Damon Salvatore booked on flight 382A to Honolulu**_ **."**

Fuck.

I'm late.

The voice of the announcement is still talking but I'm not focusing on it. I'm trying to get details on one of the airport departure boards, but I can't find what I'm looking for because there are so many lines, and it's all written in blue, white and yellow, and I didn't get any sleep last night, and my eyes are burning and…Okay, I found it: Oahu Island, HNL, Gate 3.

" _ **I repeat. This is the final boarding call for Damon Salvatore. Thank you**_ **."**

Perfect. Just in time.

* * *

I still hate planes.

Stefan called me the second I got out of the plane. He said he'll be waiting in the parking lot, and I better hurry the hell up, because there's been a huge accident on the road, and if we don't want to get stuck in traffic, we have to leave soon.

 _Great._

After picking up my luggage and going through countless security checks, I was finally able to enjoy Hawaii.

I spotted Stefan as soon as I went outside. He was leaning against the hood of his car, eyes fixed on his phone and playing whatever game, like the five years old kid he really is, something about mixing and matching colors in a combination of three…

Really ambitious.

He didn't notice me walking toward the car, and I dropped one of my bags once I was facing him, so it would fall on the ground, but it ended crushing Stefan's feet instead, and I burst out laughing. He cursed under his breath at first, still oblivious to whom might have possible done that, but I got rewarded by a beautiful tap on top of my head once he realized it was me.

The ride to the villa is taking long. He tells me that it's only been a week since he got here with Caroline, and they're still adjusting to the Hawaiian life, which gave me the perfect occasion to make fun of him.

He's wearing one of the ugliest shirt I've ever seen, wavy patterns in different shades of yellow on it, saying that it matches the island's style, which is absolutely not true, and who the hell wears that kind of clothes anyway?

Next, I'm grunting about my long flight and he asks about my last trips, but it soon gets really boring because I don't like talking about the same things every time, and I can't stop yawning. It may only be 10 A.M right now, and even though I napped a little on the plane, I'm still so fucking tired.

It goes with the whole travelling package.

I'm starting to doze off when Stefan says something about a girl, Elena, who's apparently Caroline's bestie. I don't know why he's talking about her, because it's not like I care or something, and I'm barely even listening to him, more focused on watching through the window, and admiring the landscape.

It really looks like we're in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the ocean and hills, and the view is just simply magnificent.

I'm trying to get some sleep, but Stefan gets my full attention when he says that Caroline's friend is going to spend the summer with us.

Wait.

How come I didn't know about any of it?

It only pisses me off more when he admits that the three of them had this little _magic trip_ planned from the very beginning, and if he didn't say anything about it, it's only because he knew that I would've refused.

Nicely deduced, little bro'.

But Stefan assures me that she won't be a problem, saying things like _She's really fun, and I'm sure you two will get along just fine, and even if you don't, you can just ignore her, and she's at the beach with Caroline anyway so you won't see her until tonight…_ And it's too late.

I don't have much time to think about it, because I can feel the car slowing down, and when I look around, I almost can't breathe.

We pass through an archway that leads us straight into a small driveway, lined with majestic palm trees, and it's another level of luxury. Stefan pulls away just in front of wooden gate, encrusted into a dim grey stone wall that's surrounded by white Corinthian pillars, two tiki torches on each side. I can't see anything behind it, but the whole thing looks like a fortress, and all I want, _right fucking now_ , is to see what's on the other side of the gate.

I step out of the car, meeting Stefan by the entrance, and he slides an access card through the lock. It opens, revealing a huge yard, in which several deck chairs and lounge sets are facing a flowing waterfall feature that is spilling over boulders, into a free-form pool.

There's also a long patio covered path on the left leading to the front door's house, and it's bigger than a vacation club.

I walk along the wooden floor, leaving Stefan behind, and I'm so stunned by the immensity of the estate, when he calls out for me.

"This is gonna be your room," he indicates with his head, and when I follow his gaze, there's another door halfway to the front one. He opens it, and it's a like a second house.

The room features a vaulted bamboo ceiling, cherry wood floors, and a king size bamboo canopy bed.

Stefan walks past me, patting me lightly on the shoulder and says, "It's good to see you again, Damon".

Maybe it won't be so bad.

* * *

 **A/N: So here's the first, short, chapter! It mostly introduces Damon, and hints about a few things. As for the second part, it's ready to go and should follow shortly.**

 **Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed it, and I'd really appreciate to hear from you, so please, feel free to review :)**


	2. Small Remedies

**A/N: Here's the second chapter, as promised!**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER II:** _Small Remedies_

11 P.M.

I guess I really was tired.

I sure as shit didn't want to sleep that much. I didn't exactly come to Hawaii to stay locked in a room, and yet I've already lost a full afternoon that could've been spent doing way much better things. G _reat_. And best of all: what the hell am I supposed to do until morning comes?

I look around and it's a mess. My bags are wide open and scattered over a spare mattress, with some unfolded clothes sprawling around it and over the ground. I remember doing a quick tour of the entire house, eating lunch and catching up on a few things with Stefan, then coming back to my room and picking up fresh clothes to wear, but everything else is a blur. I don't get what the point of taking clothes out of the bag was, if I'm still wearing the same ones as earlier.

By the looks of it, I must have thought that crashing into bed like a hibernating bear would get me undressed and changed. As if by magic.

I have to unpack and clean things a little bit, but first, I need a nice, ice-cold shower. It's hot here, really hot, and I had a long day.

I get out of bed, yawn and stretch my body, raising and locking my arms over my head, rolling my head from side to side until I hear this crackling noise, and fuck, it feels good.

I take off my clothes, lay them on the bed and walk over to the bathroom. There's a small corridor separating both rooms, one wall of which serves actually as a giant closet with sliding oak doors. High ceilings like this one usually offer a great deal of storage space and when I open it, it is indeed _huge_.

The closet is divided in three parts. A single top shelf, big enough to contain congested backpacks, suitcases and any other cluttered carrying bags; tree hanging clothes rails on the left, and small shelves on the right. There already are extra pillows and sheets, folded bath and beach towels of every color, shampoo/shower gel and body soap on the bottom shelf, and bingo it's exactly what I was looking for.

I open the door to the bathroom and it's not really different than the other rooms of the house. Same architecture, same construction materials and same colors... There's a double basin on the parallel wall, and I must be dreaming or something, because what I see behind the door is everything I need and want right now.

I not only have a Jacuzzi bath but also a Hydro shower. Is it a house or a Balneo Centre?

 _Ding ding_. Time for relaxation.

* * *

That was the best fucking shower I ever had.

A white crew neck t-shirt and grey sweatpants later and I'm finally ready to get bored out of my mind with absolutely nothing to do.

I go back to the great room and sit lazily on the bed, and dammit, I really have no idea of what I can possibly do.

I reach to my left to grab my phone but my fingers barely touch the nightstand. Why did I have to sit this far? Instead of getting up, I just inch closer to the edge of the bed and, yes here we go… I almost had my hand on it. I try again, and this time it works, but I'm two seconds away from cracking my head against the headboard. I return to my original position and push the power button. It's midnight.

I realize that I haven't eaten yet, but I'm not hungry.

I could use a glass of water, though.

I stand up, walk over to the door and open it. A light breath of fresh air hits me, but as soon as it comes, it's gone and is replaced with a hot sucking wind, that very slowly envelopes my whole body, and I already miss air conditioning.

And, it still feels weird to have my own room outside of the house, but as the 'guest of honor', whatever is good is mine.

The second I start moving toward the front door, I hear something in the distance. It's a sweet melody and when I listen closely, it's someone singing.

I look up to check on the windows to see if there's anyone there, and I'm trying to determine if the sound is coming from outside or inside the house but it wouldn't make any sense at all, since the lights are all off, so I turn my head and…Oh. There's someone lying on the bench by the big gate.

It's a girl.

Stefan used to send me pictures of him and Caroline, so I know that she's blonde and has blue eyes, and is the cheerleader type, but it's not her that I'm looking at right now.

It's dark so I can't quite make out the girl's face, but she's got brown hair and it's probably her friend.

My feet are taking me closer to where she is, without my accord, and with the small path-lights on, I can see her much better.

She's wearing a sleeveless white night dress, lying flat on her back, barefoot, and totally oblivious to my presence. She seems to be in an uncomfortable position, using her right bottom arm as a support under her head, and resting her other one on top on her belly. Her eyes are closed, yet I see the way she's wincing and frowning, as if she's struggling with a massive headache, but then her lips move and she's back at singing.

But this time, she only hums; letting sweet little noises escape the back of her throat, and it doesn't make it any less captivating. She actually has a nice voice, low and a little raspy, and I can't believe I'm about to say this, but her white clothing and soothing voice kinda make her look like an enchanted creature.

It's sweet and so damn _sexy_ at the same time.

I don't know why she's out here by herself in the middle of the night. She may want some time to herself or whatever, and I don't know if I should go say something to her. Probably a _hello_. I don't even know a single thing about her, except that she's Caroline's friend, but screw it. She also may want some company. Besides, it would be rude not to say hello.

I can't decide if I should go for a traditional greeting, filled with personal, uninteresting and boring questions about each other, or for a much funnier way, because I just don't know how she'll react either way, and I better not scare her away. Four months is a long time, and if I want to survive Stefan's broodiness, I may someone by my side.

I clear my throat and she stops humming, going completely rigid. Okay, well that was to be expected.

"You better not be a burglar," I taunt in the most serious tone I can possibly muster, wanting to tease her, but I don't understand why I'm opening my damn mouth.

Her eyes shot open at my accusation, and it takes her less than a second to finally look at me and realize that I'm standing right across from her. She's got long, wavy, brown hair and big bashful matching eyes, and she's so fucking beautiful.

She sits up abruptly, yanking her feet on the ground, and in the process manages to bump her elbow against the back of the bench. She's acting like a kid who just got caught stealing cookies before lunch, and I have to admit, it's quite amusing.

"Oh no, I was just…hum I'm not…" she stammers, having a hard time finding words, and still staring at me with a startled expression, looking like she's about to die of embarrassment. Her eyes leave mine for a second, just enough time for her to take a deep breath and look at me again. "I'm Elena."

I smile at her, because she really is adorable, and I shouldn't have greeted her the way I did, but she doesn't let me feel guilty long enough, because she's smiling back.

"I know," I offer in a gentle way so she knows that I wasn't being serious. "I was just playing with you."

"Oh," she whispers, and I probably wouldn't have heard it if I wasn't right in front of her. She looks down and bites her lower lip. I don't know if it's her way of telling me that she's embarrassed, but if she keeps doing that, then we're gonna have a problem.

She doesn't move, and I'm about to say something when she speaks.

"I'm sorry if I woke you; I really should be sleeping right now, but I just-"

I can't let her finish her sentence, because I'm realizing only now that I made her feel uncomfortable, and she's blaming herself for something she hasn't done.

"It's fine, you didn't," I say softly as I sit down next to her. "I'm Damon."

"I know," she mimics my tone from seconds ago, using the same words I did.

I rest my arm on the back of the bench, just behind her head, and I'm not touching her, but it doesn't stop her from flinching in surprise.

She turns her face to me, which is bare of any make up searching my face at first, and lets her eyes travel down my neck and across my hard chest then, before she brings them carefully back to mine, and this time they linger.

It should've made feel embarrassed or something, but I'm not, and it's _weird_.

I don't know what she's trying to find in my eyes, but whatever it is, I hope she does.

I hold her gaze and don't let go, and we say like that for a good moment, but I can't say for sure how long. Elena looks so lost in thought, and _I_ 'm so lost in her, and it's getting more than just weird. I shouldn't ruin the moment, but I feel like I have to say or do something, and yeah... Here goes nothing.

"You gonna stare at me all night?" I wiggle my eyebrows at her but she doesn't say anything back. She blinks instead, shifting closer to me, before lifting her right knee and tucking her foot under her left leg.

"Your eyes," she tries to say, but it came out as husky whisper. She clears her throat, and her voice is back. "I've never seen anything like it," she declares, looking genuinely amazed, and with a more childish tone she adds; "They're bluer than the bluest sky I've ever seen!"

I burst out laughing, and once I think I'm done, I hardly manage to get out, "Is that right?"

She nods and smiles.

After that, there's an awkward silence passing between us, one that I have no idea how to fill, while Elena slowly plays with the hem of her night dress. Right now, it's just empty air, and I feel like there's something else she wants to say, but maybe she doesn't know how or just wants me to speak first, and she ends up sighing.

The thing is, I'm not a big talker. I don't pretend to be anything I'm not, and I don't give a fuck what others think. I don't have many friends, and it's not like I don't get along with people, because I really do, but I don't need anyone to pat me on the back and tell me how amazing I am. I don't need anyone to tell me what I'm supposed to do. Thank you, but I think I can manage it myself.

I really enjoy the way I live and I never had this kind of freedom as a kid, so it feels good to be on my own.

I ignore the fly buzzing around our heads and take another curious look at Elena. She blinks her chocolate brown eyes and stifles a delicate yawn. It's late; shouldn't she be… sleeping by now?

"What were you doing here, all by yourself?" I ask but as it leaves my mouth, I realize what a stupid question it is to ask. It's none of my business.

She scoffs.

"It was freaking hot in my room, and the air conditioner wouldn't work," she mutters in complaint. "I tried sleeping with opened windows, but… it sort of got worse. I swear it was like 90 degrees!"

She wrinkles her nose, and I can't help but chuckle.

What the hell was that?

"It's not funny!" she whines, throwing her hands in exasperation. I laugh at her, again, which doesn't really help the situation and earns me a glare in return. "And do you know what the worst of it all is?"

I shake my head, still amused, and Elena points to her forehead.

"I got bit by a mosquito," she says, still mock-pouting.

I grin, but I need to stop doing that _right now_ , "And you thought the best solution to avoid another bite was to sleep outside?"

"Yeah…" she mumbles under her breath, furrowing her brows together. "Well, I haven't exactly thought of it this way."

She's scratching her forehead and it reminds me of the time I went to the Philippines, and got attacked by different types of insects and others bugs. Their bites itch like crazy, and there's nothing more useless than scrubbing them, because it only ends up getting swollen, and usually results in scars. And that's exactly what's gonna happen to her skin if she keeps on rubbing it the way she does.

An idea crosses my mind.

I stand up, and turn to her and she lifts her head up, surprised.

"Stay here, okay? I'll be back in a minute," I promise her, and she nods slowly, but her expression gives her away, and she doesn't seem to understand what's happening.

I head to the front door, leaving her alone and I know she's watching me, because I can feel her eyes on my back for the entire walk. I know we've only just met, but there's something about her, something I can't explain. And this expression she got in her face when she was looking at me…

I don't know.

She seems different.

I enter the summer kitchen, and hope to find what I'm looking for, my eyes scanning the room and still not believing what I'm about to do. Shit, this is serious.

It doesn't take long for me to spot the fruit bowl, as if it's been waiting for me all this time, on the countertop.

I've become more experienced, and learned a few tricks over the years and during my travels, and fruits have an underrated, yet huge power over the human body. I'm not an expert on the topic by any means, but I did a little bit of reading on it. And yeah, if I can help…

Damon Salvatore at your service. Should be available _at least_ 5 days a week, but I wouldn't count on it.

I grab a banana and start to peel it, but my head tilts when I hear the front door open and close, followed by hesitant footsteps. Elena pokes her head around the door frame, out of nowhere, and I motion for her to come inside.

She has followed me here, of course.

I smile at her questioning face, and softly tell her to have a seat. She obeys, struggling as she tries to climb into a high bar stool, and I don't even try to look away from her. She folds her legs, but her actions are quite jerky, causing her dress to lightly rise up her bare thighs. She catches me staring at her and immediately tugs on the ends of her nightgown, covering every bit of the delectable tanned skin she just revealed, but the fabric barely falls to the middle of her thighs.

She blushes, and dammit, she really needs to stop doing this.

I pretend to ignore her, choosing instead to place the banana on the counter, keeping its peel in my hand, and walk toward her.

"Here," I hand her the peel, and she hesitates a moment before taking it, "Rub it onto your bite. It can help reduce itching."

Elena looks at me incredulously for a second, her mouth slightly open, as if I've just said the most ridiculous thing in the world, but she does as I say and brings her hand to her forehead and I don't miss the way she wrinkles her nose in disgust, applying too much pressure with her fingers.

I chuckle to myself, making my way over to her, because she's doing it wrong. Not that there's any right way to do it, but if she wants it to be effective, I'll have to do it.

Even though I shouldn't.

I grab her wrist, careful not to grip too tightly, and stop her hand from moving much longer. I can sense that she's tensing up, but at least she doesn't flinch away from my hold, and it allows me to remove the banana peel from her hand, which she lets fall into her lap.

"What are you doing?" Elena asks warily, meeting my eyes.

"You're gonna end up hurting yourself," I inform her, pushing a stray strand of her hair away from her eyes so it won't get in the way. "Gentle is the key."

"And how do I know if I can trust you?" she challenges with a light tone, a faint smile on her face as I reposition the mosquito bite remedy against her forehead. "For all I know, you might be trying to kill me with this thing."

Yeah, right.

I tilt my head, as if really considering her question, and smirk at her. "I guess you'll just have to take my word for it."

She sucks in a breath and shifts slightly to get more comfortable, which makes it impossible for me to work on her bite. Instinctively, my free hand works its way up her shoulders so I can steady her, but instead, I pull her closer to me, way too focused on what I'm doing to even notice it, tracing small circles with the inner part of the peel into her skin.

I stop for a moment, and it's only when I risk a glance at her that I catch her fidgeting nervously. I can feel her knees brushing against mine, and it shouldn't feel so right but somehow it does, and this is all so wrong, so terribly wrong.

I go back to my task, and I'm about to step back from Elena, when she tilts her head at me, but the move is so fast that I don't have enough time to take my hand away, causing the moisture and stickiness of the peel to get all smeared over her nose.

"Elena!"

"Sorry," she giggles, swinging her feet and jumping right off the stool, as I throw the used peel off in the nearest bin.

I turn back to her and bring my fingers to her nose, so I can wipe it clean. She shivers but stays very still, her face _close_ to mine, and I'm all too aware of the fact that her skin is really soft and warm, and that she looks so damn beautiful and smells even better.

She sucks in a breath before biting her damn lip _again_ , eyes locked with mines, and I swallow, because she's standing too close to me, and this is way too fucking intimate and I should be running, getting the hell away from this kitchen and from _her_ , but I don't and I'm just an idiot.

She seems to understand what's going inside my head, because she steps back, tugging her hair behind her ears. There's enough space between us now, thank God, and Elena's eyes are roaming over the room, but I'm not sure if she's just avoiding my gaze, or looking for something.

I'm still trying to figure out what just happened, because I _never_ let myself get this close to anyone, not in this way and not like I did with her tonight. If I do, they'll start asking questions I don't have answers to, wanting to know why I choose something over another thing, giving and expecting in return, and I can't.

I shake my head because this is a really fucked up situation, and if I was never gonna see her again it wouldn't even bother me, but she's spending the whole summer here according to Stefan, and yeah, it kinda sucks. It's not that I don't want her here, but I'm not used to things like that, and I'll only end up screwing everything up anyway.

I wish I could pretend like I didn't feel anything at all, and didn't see the way she reacted to my touch, but I would be lying, and then again, maybe it doesn't mean anything at all. It doesn't help that I have no clue what's running through her mind, and as I let myself think about all this mess, Elena skips past me, moving further into the kitchen and away from me.

I don't know what she plans on doing, and I sure as hell don't care. I won't turn around.

I hear water running in the sink, but then it stops, and not more than two seconds later, Elena is back, standing back before me, and carrying a napkin that matches the color of her dress over her left shoulder. She takes my hand, the one I've been using on her forehead, and cradles it in both of her palms. Her wands are wet, and she slips her fingers through mine, moving them back and forth, and working with her thumbs to wash off whatever sticky residue remains.

My attention is fully focused on her movements, completely amazed by this girl, and when I glance at her, I can't help but wonder if she feels it too.

But whatever is happening between us right now, it's going on fast.

Elena lets go of one hand, keeping the other one locked in mine. I squeeze her once, and smile at her, so she knows I appreciate what she just did, and she surprises me when she squeezes back.

"Thank you," she says quietly and I don't understand what she's talking about, but then she lets go and adds, "The itching has stopped."

"No problem," I wink at her, and she blushes furiously for what must be the hundredth time tonight.

She turns around, and flops back in her stool, leaning against the low backrest, and crosses her arms over her chest, swinging her legs from side to side.

"So, Damon," she singsongs, arching an eyebrow at me, and I have a bad feeling about this. "You're a world traveler, huh?"

Fucking knew it.

"Something like that," I shrug, and walk toward the stool next to Elena, because I apparently turned into a magnet and can't stay away from her.

I sit down, and Elena leans into the countertop and picks up a grape from the bowl, rolling it between her fingers. She seems lost in a daydream for a while, a sweet expression on her face, like she's remembering something she hasn't thought about in ages.

"I wish I could be more like you," she says, still checking the fruit over, and I wasn't expecting such a touching revelation. "I mean, not having to depend on other people, and living your own life the way you want to live it, you know?"

It's getting too personal, but at least she seems honest, besides being really fun, and I don't feel like pushing her away, even if it comes back and bites me in the ass later.

"You could have this life too," I tell her, and I mean it. "Wanna know what I think?"

She nods.

"I think," I pause and try to find the right words, "If you want something, you should go get it. What's holding you back from reaching your dreams?"

"I don't know…Life, maybe?" she shakes her head, like there's something about her statement that's bothering her, and now I'm intrigued.

Elena pops the fruit in her mouth and grabs more grapes, handing some to me. We sit in silence for several minutes, both enjoying the sweet taste of fruits, but her words still resonate through my head, and I can't wrap my mind around it.

What did she mean by that?

"Hey, you know what?" I ask and she looks back at me, a glint of hope lighting her eyes.

"Nah."

"One day, I'll take you somewhere nice," I tell her without even thinking, and yes, it's totally happening. "Someplace where you can step away from your _life_ , and be as free as possible."

Why can't I shut the hell up?

"You promise?" she asks, sounding childish and smiling so big that her face might get stuck that way, and here she goes again.

It may seem _crazy_ , and that's exactly what it is, but I can't ignore what's right in front of me. There is something. And if she's up for it, then I can take her with me one day.

Besides, I'm sure she'd make a great travel buddy.

"I promise."

* * *

 **A/N: Soooo, Damon finally met Elena, and I know the whole thing may seem rushed, but it's not. There's just an incredible -immediate connection between them, and it's only starting!**

 **We're going to see how their relationship with each other develops in the next chapter, and a new character will make an appearance …**

 **Also, I have to tell you this: I'm going on vacation tomorrow and won't have my computer for two LONG weeks, so no updates before then, but I promise that I'll be writing every chance I get so I won't come back empty-handed!**

 **If you have any questions, suggestions or request, feel free to PM me, or review and I'll be replying to every single one of them with my phone.**

 **I can't wait to hear what you have to say, good, bad or both, and I will see you soon!**


	3. Read and Approved

**A/N: I would like to send a big thank you to everyone who took the time to read/ review/follow this fanfic. It really means a lot.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER III:** _Read and Approved_

"Come on, Salvatore! What's taking you so long?"

Nothing. I am thinking. Trying to figure out a way to win the last round of a game _I_ have created, because I am losing so far. Even if I don't stand a chance anymore. At least, not against the biggest cheaters the world has ever known but I can't lose again this time, because I just can't. I never do, _period,_ and it's a fucking harsh blow to my reputation and not doing any good to my perfectly carved image right know. Especially since I never wanted to play in the first place...

Okay, that's not true.

It totally was my idea and no one wanted to take me seriously on this, but now they're gloating and having the time of their lives. I am not, which sucks for me _and_ my ego.

The rules are not even complicated. Well, I _thought_ they were not.

There are three players, thus, three roles: the swimmer, the pitcher and the timekeeper. The pitcher stays outside of the pool and throws a ball into the water that has to be found by the blindfolded swimmer. The next step for the latter is to return to starting position, and shoot. He scores only if the basket-thingy goes through the makeshift hoop that's hanging onto one of our gnarled oak tree. If it doesn't, he tries again until he either scores or runs out of time.

And you need to do all that shit in less than a required time. One minute for the first round, forty-five seconds for the second one, and only thirty seconds for the third, fourth and fifth. Don't even get me started on the size of the pool. It's bigger than a fucking football field.

It started really good for me though and it drives me even more insane.

I completed the first round with twenty-five seconds left on my watch, which got me first place. The second one I got close but not close enough and subsequently ran out of time. And I'd rather not talk about the third and the fourth ones. I'm ashamed enough as it is, trust me.

It turns out I was better off just lying on the lawn and enjoying the warm and soft weather.

But _that_ was before I heard Caroline grunting and complaining to Elena about her lack of sleep, shortly followed by giggles and whispers. And from what I could get, my dear brother kept Caroline up all night because he wanted to try some new positions. I stopped listening right away and the simple thought of it still makes me want to puke and… _ugh_. It's gross, gross, gross.

The thing with Caroline is, she always has something to say or complain about. Sometimes it's about her hair that she finds way too messed up, extremely short or too long, excessively blonde and not wavy enough- it really depends on the days; or her skin that's either way too tanned or not nearly as much as it should be…And at other times, she bitches about the food: ' _I can't eat that, it's too cold and did even you put salt on it?'_ , about the fridge being empty, the mess that's in the garden, the weather, the crowd outside, her clothes…

Every second of every day.

I hardly ever hear her say kind things and it's already been three weeks. That says something.

And the girl must have radar or something because she knows everything that happens in the house. Usually long before it happens, even down to the last detail. She sticks her nose into everything and loves to share what's on her mind, not having a care in the world if her opinion matters or not.

I don't bother being nice to her since she's always fussing and griping at me and we don't hate each other but yeah, we're not fond of each other either. It actually got worse when I called her a 'cry baby snitch' a few days ago but she asked for it. She may say she's not mad at me about it, but the death glares she gives me every now and then prove otherwise.

But apart from all the shrieks, yells and screams, Caroline can _sometimes_ act like a normal and nice person, even if I hate admitting it. She tries to be more fun but…it's not a total success since she takes everything at face value. Yet, that doesn't change the fact that she makes Stefan happy, happier than I've seen him in a long time, so she's not _that_ bad. Because when I get to spend some time alone with him and he catches sight of her coming or hears her voice, his whole face lights up and he starts smiling more. And just for that, I'll be forever grateful to her.

I won't tell her that.

So I suggested this stupid game and to be completely honest, I really thought Caroline would be the first one to accept and team up against me. She's dying to beat my ass in any possible way, but no. _Freakzilla_ turned me down and gave me that ' _you can go fuck yourself while you're at it_ ' look I'm more than used to by now. According to her, I need to grow the hell up because we're not children anymore and can't play games. And even if she _did_ acknowledge the fact that yes, it might be kinda fun, it was still a 'no' because she already did hair and make-up.

Unbelievable. I'm sure her motto must be something like, ' _Anytime, anyplace, make-up'_.

She jumped up five minutes later, sighing and groaning loudly, because she totally forgot that Stefan wanted to take her out tonight and they were going to miss their dinner reservations if she didn't start getting ready and wasting time with immature people like _me_.

I'm not sure which one of us is more immature, but fine. Do as you please. And if you ever get bored in the future, don't expect me to find you anything entertaining to do.

And that left me with Elena and Ric, who joined us in Hawaii a few days after my arrival.

I knew before coming here that Ric was going through a divorce, the second one actually, and I wasn't going to let my buddy go through this mess alone, moping around things he couldn't change. This idea had been lurking in the back of my mind for quite some time- that he might need a break, and it's no secret that spending time with me is the perfect way for him to take his mind off things.

Winky face.

So when I called to check on him and found him in a pretty miserable state, I ordered him to get his ass over here, fast, quick and in a hurry. And yep, I didn't exactly give him much of a choice, but I knew better than to let him turn into a bum. If the first time around left some after-effects, I highly doubt the second one is going to be any easier.

I was still in New-York when it first happened and I supported Ric through that difficult transition, as his wife (a.k.a crazypants) left him without warning. No matter what he did, it was never enough for her, she was too demanding. And just like that, she took everything with her in the process. His money. His car. His life. His _dignity_. The first few months were tough for him and it affected him deeply that he couldn't do a thing. He didn't sleep much. The never answering the phone started more and the drinking grew more serious, starting with breakfast every morning. And Ric has this ability to get sloshed faster than Garfield finds pizza, but nothing I couldn't handle.

Best-friend Extended Service to the rescue, how may I help you?

After long hours and weeks of whining and talking, I finally got him to see the light and realize how much of a free man he was. You're welcome, amigo.

He started dating and having fun again but whenever a relationship got too serious, he'd just back off. I remember him saying there was not a single woman on this earth worthy of him and he swore he'd never, _ever_ , marry again and commit to another woman, but look where that got him. Back to square one.

So you better believe I couldn't possibly let the ' _drunk always and forever'_ stage happen again, not after he told me that things were getting a little out of , Stefan, Caroline and Elena are all twenty-one which makes them five years youngerthan me,and it's not like I care about this stuff but it was another good excuse to have Ric here.

And if Blondie gets to invite her bestie, I get to invite mine too.

Ric being here didn't change anything. It's even better in a way. Stefan already knew him well, and the girls welcomed him with opened arms as if they all knew each other for a long time and tried to cheer him up the minute he walked through the door. It was really nice of them because they didn't have to do it.

He's in a better emotional state now. Back to his old douchebag self and that's how the fucker repays me for playing therapists with him. By beating my ass. And it's apparently more fun to team up with the opposite sex and laugh about my total failure.

But we'll see who has the last laugh.

And the worse is, Elena and Ric were both whining like ass-spoiled brats before dipping head first into water. Ric was too _busy_ reading articles about 'letting go and moving on after divorce', which is total crap, and Elena couldn't take her eyes off her phone. I sure as hell didn't expect him to be faster than me and for her to swim like a goddamn mermaid, but I suspect her to be part dolphin, part human. It shouldn't even surprise me because everything she does is done with such simplicity, grace and usually without mistakes.

"We're waiting for you, dickhead. It can't be any worse than it already is, so _come on_!" Ric yells from the other side of the pool, bringing back my attention and I hear Elena giggling softly.

I don't see what's so funny about the situation.

Screw them both. Game on.

I sink deeper into the water and close my eyes in satisfaction, feeling the tension in my muscles unravel and I'm ready. The joke is over now, let's get this thing done.

I put the blindfold over my eyes and raise my hand, flicking my thumb up which is the signal for Elena to throw the ball, and I hear a little splash coming from my left as it falls into the water. Yep, definitely from my left. Ric starts the timerand whistles once, twice, and on the third time, I'm already swimming as hard as I can, and twenty bucks says a PMSing woman running out of chocolate doesn't look as crazy as I do.

I'm kicking and trashing, thrashing and kicking, with one sole purpose: to do it right. I reach the ball and there are probably still twenty-five seconds left which is more than enough. Well, it should be.

I swim back to the middle of the pool with one arm, struggling with the other as I try to keep possession of the ball but I don't hear any whistle so I must be good.

I push the blindfold up and roll my shoulders back in preparation as my vision gets clearer. I take a deep breath and perform a shooting motion that nearly dislocates my shoulder. So much for finesse.

I resist doing an actual fist pump and settle for a mental one instead, certain I've got the hang of it this time, but fuck me running if the ball doesn't hit high on the backboard with a vibrating clang, angles down and bounces off the front of the rim, toward me and into the water.

Son of a bitch.

I don't even have time to catch it and try another time because Ric is blowing the final whistle andright now, I can't decide between drowning and suffocating to death. Is it justified that I feel like the entire world is a giant conspiracy against me?

"Oh my god, you are terrible at this game," Elena laughs just as I get out of the water and sit on the edge of the pool, regaining my breath. I narrow my eyes at her and she winks in return, blowing me a kiss before turning toward Ric. What the hell was that? "Well played guys, but nothing or no one stands a chance against me."

And she's right to gloat, because she won fucking first place, Ric following shortly behind her.

"It just keeps getting better and better," I mutter sarcastically because I can't help it and she grins harder.

I ignore them both and ease myself up as Elena walks in my direction, grabbing a towel off the lounge chair she was lying on earlier. She throws it at me and I dodge it.

"Don't get all pouty on me, Mister ' _I suck at my own game_ '," she warns me playfully, crossing her arms. "I _really_ thought you were the guy with all the impossibly strong powers."

She's wrong if she thinks she's funny.

"I let you win," I lie in my defense and she knows it, "Not that big of a deal."

"Oh yeah?" she asks, looking amused and not convinced at all. "And why would you do that?"

"Figured your ego could use the boost," I say casually, then slide my mouth into a smirk so she'll know I'm joking. Sort of.

"Yeah, right," she tells me, rolling her eyes. "If that's what you need to tell yourself."

Elena is a whole different story.

Things have been strange and…weird between us since the very first night. After the weird-banana contact, we made small chit-chat over nothing really important, nothing in any depth until she started dozing off.

But it's not a _bad_ weird. More like the kind of weird that brings you close together and makes you wonder if there's something going on that you don't know about. We're friends, probably closer than what said friends would be, but this ' _thing_ ' we have won't go any further. It can't.

That doesn't mean I'm glib or that I'm not aware of every single thing that concerns her, but it's okay because I don't care.

I don't care about the way she always smiles differently, as though she has a complete repertoire, saving a new one for each occasion. One when something flat out makes her burst in laughter. One when she catches the smell of fresh coffee and I'm pretty sure she'd drink it with gusto at any time of day or night. One when she knows something I don't. One when she's laughing out of politeness. One when she pretends to be laughing at Stefan's lame jokes. One when she makes fun of herself. One when she's uncomfortable. One when she thinks no one's looking at her…

Nope, I don't care at all.

Not even about how much skin is showing when she wears a bikini, which means every fucking day or how she walks, sashaying off wherever she goes, with little extra-hip rolls every once in a while.

Okay, it might be only part of my imagination, or not. I'm at that point where I don't even know what's real and what's not anymore.

But there's nothing more to it.

The only problem is, my body didn't apparently get the memo because my cock is a total sucker for her charms and jolts to life from time to time at the simple sight of her. If it could talk, it'd probably be complimenting and fawning all over her. The traitor even fills my brain with encrypted messages and let me tell you, it's a combination of all kind of wrong thoughts.

And Elena is just… Well, she does everything right. She takes good care of us all, saying every now and then if there's anything she can do to just let her know, as long as she hears a ' _Please'_ , and a ' _Thank you, Elena'._ She's smart, determined and stubborn as stone when her mind is set. She may not look like much, but the girl's one tough cookie. And unlike Caroline _,_ she doesn't care much about drama, doesn't create any of her own.

Do I like her? Yes. Do I want to be romantically involved with her, in a full-time relationship and all that mushy-gushy stuff with a bunch of smooching too? Hell no.

Why?

Because Elena is the first person I've actually connected to in a long, _long_ time and I just feel oddly comfortable around her. There's something _in_ her that tells me she's not like any other people I know and I want to trust it. Plus, she makes it kinda hard for me, _pun intended_ , to stay away because every second I spend with her is precious to me and makes me like her more and more.

But that's no reason to screw things up, even if I know I'm stepping into dangerous territory sometimes.

And ever since Ric's been here, Stefan feels less guilty about spending most of his time with Caroline. That's why they're hardly here during the day, and when they are, it's usually locked in their room, meaning Elena is always staying with Ric and me. Or the other way around. I'm not really sure, because she's always doing something and I don't understand how she can fit us in her busy schedule.

She's always up first in the mornings, not like us lazy bones who usually sleep in except on Sundays. And by the time we all wake up, she has breakfast all ready. Pancakes on Mondays and Thursdays, strawberries and almonds cereals on Tuesdays and Fridays, and my favorite on other days, French toast and scrambled eggs. But the hot stuff doesn't eat breakfast normally. She only has coffee. Much, much coffee.

I did wake up a few times before her though and I can assure you that her day doesn't start until she's had her first sip of coffee, and Elena without it? It's just plain nasty. And while I'm more of an extra-hot Italian roast, with sugar and real cream, Elena is only a two-sugar-no-cream.

But I guess her _I don't eat breakfast_ speech is bullshit because she's been sneaking more and more food off of my plate lately.

Hope she doesn't forget to add _sweet thief_ to her resume.

After that, she's ready to just lie out in the sun and perfect her tan, because she gets cranky if she doesn't get her daily dose and a half of Vitamin D. It's a whole program. Two hours every morning on her lounge chair in the garden, switching positions every twenty minutes, and three hours at the beach every other afternoon, turning herself round as the sun moves across the sky.

It's all bare legs glistening with tanning lotion and tiny beads of sweat like seed pearls, flowing from her skin and trickling down all over her belly, and… _fuck_. Maybe I care a little.

I know all that stuff because Elena _constantly_ forgets her water bottle, and I _constantly_ bring it to her and end up staying with her.

The first time it happened, I was alone inside the house. Stefan took Caroline shopping, excuse me while I add a dramatic eye-roll here, thank you, and Ric was working out at the gym. I didn't find anything else to do than to veg out on the couch to some really dumb TV show until I got a text saying, " _ **Can you bring me some water, please? Forgot my bottle…**_ " I didn't understand who it was from at first but another text came in, just seconds later. " _ **Put your swim trucks on and come stay with me. Just don't think I'm looking forward to it, you can be BORING sometimes ;)**_ "

I'm not sure how she even got my number, but it wouldn't have been difficult to get. She's so sneaky.

But back to the point, it's only normal to admire what's in front of me if I save her from dying of dehydration every time. Besides, it's not like I'd rather be anywhere _but_ near her.

And as if we don't spend enough time together, we also have _super-secret meetings_ as Elena likes to call them. It's not that it's _secret_ , but we're last to go to bed almost every night so that explains it.

I know we're always teasing and making fun of each other, but during these moments when everything is calm and quiet, she talks to me.

Small things at first. Like how she studied briefly journalism before changing her major to English literature or how she actually prefers Pepsi over Coke, hates spiders and cheese, and would only need a Swiss Army knife if she could take three things with her to a deserted Island. This way she'd be able to handpick coffee beans and wouldn't suffer from serious caffeine withdrawals. Oh, and she's one hell of a picky eater and hates it when the food is mushy or sauce-covered.

She's nuts.

She loves to piss me off with her famous ' _what would you do if…_ ' questions that drive me crazy and she knows it. She once asked me, ' _If you could completely master one skill, what would it be?'_. I replied that peeking under the skirt of pretty girls like her without getting caught would be just fine and after that, she spent five minutes blushing like crazy, mouth wide open and looking all scandalized. She still ended up hitting me with cushions and mumbled smugly that if it wasn't considered animal abuse, she'd slap the hell out of me.

And she's feisty above all. Just how I like'em.

But a few nights ago, she asked me if she could trust me, and I nodded. She immediately started opening up to me and told me _more_ about her life. I know for instance that she was born out of wedlock to a teenage mother that abandoned her when she was only three, leaving her with her grandmother. But said grandmother wasn't one of those plump, sweet and caring grandma you see in movies. Nope. She reluctantly gave Elena a home and raised her, constantly being rejecting. It fucking killed me when she confessed that she spent her entire childhood feeling like no one cared about her and hoping to be rescued someday by her mother, but it never happened. At least not when she needed it the most.

She's received some calls from her mom since her grandmother died but Elena says she's not ready to talk and forgive her yet. Totally understandable.

And I was just listening that night, outraged at the many injustices done to her and even though it was heartbreaking to hear the hurt in her voice, I didn't say anything. Because let's face it, what do you say to someone after this? _I'm sorry for everything you've been through_? _It must have been really awful_ …? Bullshit. There are no words I could possibly say that would mend her heart.

And maybe that's why this thing is getting to me, because she's not really different from me.

I reached for her hand when she finished her story and squeezed it gently, offering her all the support I could provide as we were sitting in silence. She wasn't crying but _close,_ so I didn't let go of her hand. After quite some time, I thanked her for trusting me and told her she could talk to me anytime she needed a listening ear. She nodded and immediately flashed me her smile N°45856. Very shy at first, lips barely turning up but parting within seconds with a burst of lovely, white teeth beaming at me.

She was back at her playful self before I could even come up with something else to say.

I know she still hides pieces of herself from me though, but she'll tell me whenever she's ready and only if _she_ wants to. Just like she did the first time. I'm certainly not gonna force her into anything, I know better.

Because if she's kind enough to share all these things, I can't say the same for me. Elena doesn't know much about my past, _except_ the meaningless shit I want her to know for the simple fact that I don't like talking about anything further than yesterday. On the rare occasions she gets me to open up, she listens to every word I say but I never let myself go too far. She's totally cool with it and I'm not sure if Stefan warned her before coming to Hawaii, but I don't think so.

She senses when I'm just not in the mood and doesn't take me very seriously, and it's everything I need during those times. Don't know how but it's like she _gets_ it, and that scares me.

But the time isn't right so I push those thoughts away.

 _Focus_.

I look back at Elena who's slipping a pale blue summer dress over her head and watch in slow motion as she threads her arms through both straps. She trembles deliciously when the soft fabric settles against her still wet skin and falls over her thighs.

I'm thinking about the purpose of human life, polar bears and global warming, anything but her.

I need to stop doing that.

I look away before she catches me staring and I realize that Ric is sending me a questioning look as he walks over to us. I'd been so lost in my hopeless despair I almost forgot he was still here. Talk about being a good friend.

"You okay, loser?" he asks, patting me on the back once he reaches us but I shrug him off.

"Shut up, Ric." I snap, trying to relax the screwed-up expression on my face and tilt my chin up. "You owe me a rematch."

"You're on, _babe_ ," he says smugly, batting his eyelashes. Asshole. "What do you say, Elena?"

I tilt my head to peek up at her and see that she's slipping her feet into her flip-flops now, plastering a sweet but slightly defiant smile on her face. Fuck, I've never seen this one before and it looks _insanely_ sexy.

"As much as I'd love to beat you again and confirm the fact that you are _both_ big losers," she pauses a moment for dramatic effect and I'm two seconds away from rolling my eyes. Guess I wasn't that wrong about her ego. "It'll have to wait."

"Scared to go up against us again?" Ric taunts and Elena arches an eyebrow.

"In your dreams," she drawls, slowly turning her head toward me and it has trouble written all over it. "I'm just starving and waiting for Damon to fix me something to eat."

What was I saying?

"No thanks," I shrug casually and she gasps with shock. "I think I'll pass."

"You promised me dinner!"

She's right. I did, but only because even though I _tried,_ I couldn't get her to play and needed to find something convincing enough. A very long debate with Ric laughing his ass out followed and she literally started drawing up what sounded like a contract, coming up with an impressive list of rules.

The promise she's talking about is part of Rule#1: _I, Damon Salvatore, undertake to comply with all of Elena Gilbert's requirements, if the latter accepts to play._ "

After she made me say it over and over, write it on her phone and she fucking shrugged as if it was normal and asked for dinner in return, calling it a _fair_ trade. There's nothing fair about it. But the truth is, I'm totally okay with it because if I can make her happy with just that, then it makes _me_ happy. End of story. I don't want to know what it really means.

"Come on, smartass" I take a step toward her, barely restraining a grin. "I hope you like mac and cheese, because that's all you're getting."

"I don't…" she mumbles and I don't even have to look to know she's scrunching her nose up in disgust.

"You're lucky I went grocery shopping yesterday," I tell her and drape an arm around her shoulder, slowly walking her toward the house. And I am not paying any attention to the way the curves of her body fit perfectly into mine.

Nope.

Ric is behind us but excuses himself once we're inside, saying he needs to take a shower. I nod and am about to clap him on the shoulder when Elena somehow frees herself from my arm and grabs my wrist, towing me to the kitchen.

She's walking so fast I can catch a whiff of her perfume that damn near knocks me to my knees every time I smell it. It's a combination of violet, almond, and musk with citrus notes- something delicate, warm and… _exquisite_.

"God, _stop_ dragging your feet," she groans and draws me out my reverie with a soft tug on my wrist.

"Always bossing people around…"

"Ha ha."

When we enter the kitchen, Elena loosens her hold on my arm, setting me free and I don't understand why it suddenly feels so cold. She walks around the island, turns on the sink and starts washing her hands, rubbing them together after applying a hazelnut-sized amount of soap, not missing any area between her fingers and God, I can't believe this is taking so long.

I step up to stand beside her and clear my throat so she'll hurry up and get it done, because _I_ need to wash my hands too. I wait some more but she's still taking her time. Guess we're doing it the hard way then.

I playfully bump her with my hip to push her out of the way and finally take her place at the sink. She shrieks my name as she almost loses her balance, holding onto the counter for support and I chuckle.

"Whoops," I say nonchalantly, washing my hands a lost faster than she did.

" _Jerk_."

"We're going to be here all night at this rate," I explain and snatch some paper towels from the dispenser. I take a look at her as I dry my hands and she looks _pissed_. I cock my head to the side, my lips feigning a pout and the corners of her mouths twitch a little, like she's fighting back a smile. Damn, that smile.

"Well, excuse me for wanting to wash my hands so I can help with dinner."

"That wasn't part of the deal," I remind her and she leans over the counter, rolling her eyes in the process.

"I know but-" she says and I cut her off.

"You're not gonna help me."

" _Damon_ …" she insists and I shake my head.

"Elena, let me do this, okay? You don't have to always spoil us."

"Yes, I do. Cooking actually helps me relax," she tells me as I gather all the ingredients and utensils I'll need, piling them on one corner of the counter.

"Is that so?" I ask even though I already know the answer and she nods, reaching for the spatula I'm holding. I snatch it back from her hands and point it at the table. "Elena, s _it_."

She shakes her head and moves around the kitchen, probably looking for something to do. I sigh, because she's so stubborn and I swear I don't understand her. She spent half an hour getting me to agree to cook for her and now she acts like she's just changed her mind. Why doesn't she just enjoy the moment and let me take care of her for once?

"I hate feeling useless," I hear her mumble and Elena being Elena can't help herself from asking again, "You sure you don't want help?"

"No, I want _you_ to sit down and let me do the work," I say while loading up the slicer with tomatoes and she groans but still does as I say.

"Jeez, you're so annoying."

"Thanks," I reply sarcastically and she huffs out a laugh from her stool.

I return my attention to the slicer and once I'm out of tomatoes, I stick the onions on the machine. It's oddly quiet, and Elena is _never_ silent so I glance over at her, and she's completely focused on what I'm doing.

I clear my throat and that seems to bring her back into awareness.

"Damon…how come you haven't told me very much about yourself?" she asks nervously and I harden my jaw, swallowing hard because I wasn't expecting that.

"There's not much to tell."

"How can we be friends if I don't even know you?" she says in that lightly teasing tone that tells me she's not pressuring me and I faintly smile. "You know all about me and _way_ more than anyone ever needed to know about my family."

"Getting you to talk isn't exactly a challenge, Elena," I smirk and discreetly blow out a breath. This is too intense.

"Are you saying I talk too much, Salvatore?"

I shrug. "Don't know…" I pretend to be considering her question while I dump the onions into a small frying pan and set the heat on low. Elena claps a hand over her heart in mock offense and I tease, "Do you talk too much?"

"Nope," she replies immediately, looking innocent. I expectantly raise an eyebrow at her and she sighs, straightening up in her stool. "Okay, fine. I like to talk."

"Your words, not mine," I grin and she sticks her tongue out at me. That's…cute.

"Anyway, I'm a good listener as well and you'll get an ulcer keeping everything inside like you do."

 _Yeah, probably._

"Thanks for the advice, Doc," I say smoothly, and she giggles quietly like she's eighteen and I fucking love that sound.

I have no idea what I'm doing or what I'm getting myself into with Elena. She's only twenty-one and I clearly remember how I was thinking and acting at that age. She probably wants to have fun, _only_ fun and nothing serious, and I can't believe I'm even considering 'something' with her.

She was just a stranger less than a month ago and I'll be leaving at the end of the summer but I just… I like her.

And I don't know if three months is enough time to find out what she really means to me, but I can't think about this now.

There's a starving girl that I need to feed first.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you all enjoyed this new chapter.**

 **So we know a lot more about Elena now, and I guess you can say she's had a tough childhood... As for Damon, he just loves the mysterious act but how long will it take before a little brunette makes him spill the guts? ;) And something tells me their relationship is about to take another turn…which means DRAMA is starting next chapter!**

 **I forgot to point up something really important in the first chapter: English isn't my native language and I tend to mess up with grammar and tenses sometimes, so I apologize for any mistake…**

 **Reviews are always appreciated.**

 **I'll see you next time!**


	4. It Comes and Goes in Waves

**A/N: A big THANK YOU to everyone who has commented so far, and to those who have followed and/or favorited. I really appreciate the feedback- it's quite encouraging!**

 **That being said, here's the fourth chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter IV:** _It Comes and Goes in Waves_

The glass door closes behind us, the jingling of a bell fixed to the top sounding around us. There are surfboards just about everywhere in every color you can imagine, and surf-this and surf-that all around this tiny place.

The shop is amazing _._

Surfboards hang on wires attached to the ceiling. Some are mounted on the wall and a few are stacked neatly against the wall. Surf accessories, mostly fins, leashes and wax are placed here and there, leaving a little room from the normal summertime stuff. There's a rack of loud _disgusting_ flowered print t-shirts for fifteen dollars apiece and another rack of hemp necklace, some with a shark tooth, some without. Hats, wet suits, sunglasses and others are on display as well but that's not what I'm looking for.

Migrating to the rental boards spot, I start checking them over, looking for the _one_ I'll be spending the whole day with. I need the perfect board.

"How about this one?" I hear Ric say from behind.

An ugly blue-ish Hawaiian shirt with palm trees and pineapples on it dangles from a hanger on the end of his finger.

"Fuck no. Seriously, Ric?"

"I bet it'd look on you," he shrugs and I roll my eyes, bringing my attention back to the boards. "No, you're right. It's too _colorful._ Elena wouldn't like you wearing it."

There's no way in hell he just said that.

"What does any of this have to do with Elena?" I say, turning to face him and trying to sound as neutral as possible.

"I have a better question. What is going on between you two?" he asks smugly, a devious grin peels back his lips, showcasing his teeth. Fucker.

"Nothing's going on," I mumble and I already know he doesn't believe because he only shakes his head and pulls out another shirt.

"Okaay," he drawls, twirling the hanger in his finger and immediately puts it back. I _really_ want to punch him right now. "Let's try a new approach, buddy. You guys are like peas in a pod, so there's obviously something," he says and points a finger at me, "Now spill."

What the fuck are even peas and what's a pod?

I walk past him, shoving him out of the way and strolling over another rack of surfboards. My tone is a little harsh when I ask, "Why are you exactly bringing this up?"

"Oh, I don't know. Let me see," he fires back and I glare at him. "Maybe because you spend a lot of time together and you seem to enjoy being around her. And maybe the fact you can _barely_ take your eyes off of her every-"

"We're just friends," I cut him off, and he actually shuts up which is unusual, especially for Ric. I whip around to see his reaction and he tilts his head to one side, his brows furrowed.

"You don't do friends with chicks…"

"Elena is not a _chick_ ," I blurt out, making him frown and his eyes widen in realization.

He barks out a laugh. "Shit, you like her, don't you? You like her."

"Fuck you," I hiss and turn away, spying a distinctive board that looks exactly like the one _she_ used to surf on. Purple with black designs, primitive tribal tattoos and everything.

I pick it up and step up to the register and that's when I notice a paper glued with blue tape on the wall, behind the counter. SURFING LESSONS AVAILABLE. _Make sure your name is on the list below._

My eyes run down the list of names and phone numbers until I reach one special name.

Elena GILBERT, 9 A.M, scheduled with Instructor Falcoln.

I check the clock and it's almost nine, _great_. And by the way, what kind of name Falcoln is?

Ric slaps a pair of sunglasses down on the counter, and I wrench my eyes from the wall and look back at him. He arches an eyebrow and I sigh, throwing my hand up in exasperation. "What the hell do you want to hear now?"

"You're doing so much better, Damon," he says from my left and I wince. "Don't run away from what you might feel for Elena, I really thought…" he trails off and I ignore him as I hand the cashier my credit card. "Look, I really thought I'd lost you when Hayley died-"

"Dammit, Ric! _Drop_ it," I shout, taking my stuff and walking out of the shop. I hold the door for him and say in a threat, "And don't mention Hayley's name again."

We walk toward the beach, my board tucked under my arm and I can't get his words out of my head. He's right. I shouldn't run away from what I feel and I don't know if I still want to be that guy who spent three years shutting down everything and everyone, including my best friend and my brother. That guy everyone noticed was lost before I even did. And maybe meeting Elena was the push I needed. Maybe I've been waiting for someone like her- someone I can't stop thinking about no matter how hard I try, to come along all this time. Maybe she's the one who can make that change in my life: get back to being…me.

And somehow, it just feels _right_.

"You know," Ric tells me once our feet touch the sand, "Romance usually starts with friendship, so you and Elena…." he taunts, wiggling his eyebrow and I smack him upside the head. "What? I'm just saying."

"And you know so much about love…"

"Shut up," he mutters and I snort.

"Anyway, Elena is not even _that_ hot," he teases, and I narrow my eyes at him. "You know who's really hot?" he asks, tilting his head toward a blonde High-class bimbo, probably _twice_ his age. "That girl over there wearing the blue thing."

He starts walking toward her and I call out, "Please, don't start the conversation with a proposal, you'll only scare her away!"

"Don't worry, you'll be my best man," he waves me off and I chuckle, shaking my head.

I spot Stefan and he's already on the water, trying to catch some waves. And as I make my way to him, I peek at Elena who's not so far from us. She's learning how to stand on a board, laughing as always. I can't hear what she's saying but her instructor is chuckling and making nervous glances her way. What's his name already? Oh right, Falcoln.

Seeing her with that two-bit Surfer boy, watching her smile at him and touch his arm from support? I _hate_ it.

It's almost like jealousy, but it can't be.

* * *

After spending the rest of the morning with Stefan, riding waves for the first time in months, I ended up walking the beach from one end to the other. Being on this beach and _surfing_ is blissful, almost healing but not quite yet because I can't stop thinking about Hayley.

She would've loved being here. Surfing was _her_ thing. And I sort of just picked it up and went along for the whole ride with her every summer, never really understanding why she loved it all that much. But I think I get it now. If there's anything great about being in the water, it's not having to think about it, and there's something that surfing teaches you: you just can't control things. Not the _big_ things anyway. You just have to wait for the next wave, and wipeouts are part of the deal.

Everything is completely in motion. Life doesn't hold still and if we don't move with it, life passes us by. It's exactly the same way with waves and water. You have to go with the flow smoothly and be in the moment spontaneously. And if you learn to wipe out and go back out, that can translate to your own life. You can wipe out in anything you're doing, but all you have to do is to paddle back out. This way, you get the most out of the wave _and_ out of life.

And now, I can't help but wait as I sit facing the ocean, listening to the give and take of the gentle waves. Waiting for what, I don't know. Maybe an answer. Some kind of a whisper. Is it so wrong to hope that life might give something back?

A shadow falls across me and I can smell a distinct citrus-spice perfume drifting through the air. I know that scent now. I'd know it anywhere. I close my eyes and allow myself this dangerous indulgence. I breathe in that intoxicating mixture, holding my breath so I can savor it quietly and commit it to memory, because I know it. I'll leave and it'll be over soon.

"It's peaceful down here, I like it," her soft voice says from behind me and I open my eyes, ready to face reality when she speaks again, "I've been looking all over the beach for you."

I can sense that she's walking toward me very slowly and I wince because she shouldn't be anywhere near me when I'm in one of these moods. I don't want to lose control or snap at her and say things I'll regret later. And I really want to tell her to just leave and go back to her friends, but nothing comes out of my fucking selfish mouth.

I just keep staring at the clouds instead, and they're big, white, fluffy things and a hell of other shit that don't reflect my thoughts.

I feel like something is moving next to me but I don't pay much attention to it until Elena clears her throat, forcing me to finally look up at her.

"I come bearing food," she says, handing me a small paper bag and wiggling it adorably. "This is for you."

I'm only hearing words but not understanding what they mean or what's even happening, the result of my overthinking. I just take what she's handing me and I _think_ I set it somewhere in front of me but I'm not sure. I'm more focused on Elena, who's plopping down on the sand next to me.

And I'm tired of always hiding behind my walls and I can't pretend to be respectful any longer. So I look at her, _really_ look at her this time.

She's wearing nothing but a white-tight fitting t-shirt and black bikini bottoms, her hair falling down around her face in soft brown curls, lighter on the top where the sun touches her head everyday. There's something frazzled yet delicate, an incredible fineness that's only hers, about the way she crosses her legs and brushes sand off her hands. Once she's done, she turns her head to me, smiling warmly and I'm suddenly struck with one simple fact.

She's beautiful.

I feel a wild rush of something, just gawking at her and I have to stop trying to figure out which colors need to be blend together to create her specific shade of skin tone. But it's not that easy when she looks like she's just came out of a classical painting. Titian or Botticelli.

"I thought you might me hungry," Elena tilts her head toward the bag, breaking through my thoughts.

"Did you read my mind and brought me a drink too?" I ask playfully, just to tease her but Elena nods. She fucking nods.

"Uhm, there's coke, lemonade and water…" she trails off and it takes everything in me not to gape at her because she's so caring, so compassionate, so… _Elena_. "I wasn't sure what you'd like so I-"

"Thank you," I cut her off and tell her sincerely. And I know it's a small gesture and it surely doesn't mean anything to her, but it does to me. It always does.

I grab one handle of the paper bag and bring it closer so I can see what's inside. Granola bars, the drinks she told me about, three different packets of crisps, a half-eaten muffin, _and_ a cold can of Diet Cherry Pepsi.

I smile at the half eaten muffin, and I know I shouldn't do what I'm about to do when she's trying to be nice to me and I'll only piss her of but…it's too good to resist.

I pull out _her_ Pepsi and pretend to be popping the top, trying so hard not to laugh when Elena starts jiggling her legs nervously, staring at my every move and she's probably feeling herself boiling up inside. I give her ten more seconds before she explodes. 10, 9, 8, 7, 6-

She groans and snatches the can out of my hands. "The Pepsi is for _me._ " I hold back a chuckle and her voice is much softer, almost guilty, when she adds, "And sorry, I already ate half the muffin before I considered you might want some since you love blueberries..."

God, she's such a dork.

I burst out laughing and it's followed by an immediate sigh of relief, taking the tension out of my body. And I still don't understand how she does that every time she's near me.

"It was good seeing you surf with Stefan earlier," she tells me and I shift my gaze back to the ocean, not really a fan of this change of subject. "When did you learn to surf?"

"I was maybe four or five, but Stefan never really learned" I answer quickly, not wanting to go into too much detail. I can't go back to those times. They're blocked out of my memory.

And Elena seems to get it, like she always does, and simply nods.

"Do you surf often?" she asks again, digging her painted toes on the sand, and I shake my head no.

As kids, we'd go every summer to Gold Coast and that's where I learned but now? It's actually been awhile since I've been surfing. And the last time I did, a huge wave smashed the hell out of me into some coral and knocked me out, and as bonus, I cut my ankle while drifting back to the shore. Never forget how much of a real bitch saltwter can be during these moments.

But Elena doesn't need to know that.

"For someone who is all about control, you didn't seem to have any in the water," she says, and I'm amazed at how she's able to notice the small things.

"I can't control the ocean. It does what it wants."

"Damon," she says very quickly as I pick up the Coke and crack it open. I glance back at her and I can hear a real concern in her voice when she asks, "Are you sick?"

 _What?_

"No," I answer, completely confused. "No, I'm not sick..."

Well at least, I don't think I am. I don't know anymore, dammit why is she asking me that? Does she want to know if I'm sick _sick,_ or badly sick or just crazy sick _?_

"Thank God," she breathes and I scrunch my eyebrows together, waiting for an explanation which makes her rush on to say, "I thought you were gonna tell me you only had a few months or something like that..."

I choke on my drink and cough hard. "Why would you think that?" I blurt out, wiping the dribble off my chin.

"I don't know," she shrugs as if it's a totally normal thing to do. As if it's not a big deal. As if we're just talking about the weather or something even lighter. "Stefan's been acting weird all day and you're obviously upset..."

"I'm not upset," I shot back immediately, not liking where this is going and she cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Fine, then answer me honestly," she tells me softly and I swallow. "Are you okay?"

"Peachy."

"Damon, you don't sound _peachy_..."

"And how do I sound like?" I snap and instantly regret it when I notice the puzzled expression on her face.

"Upset…" she whispers, looking away from me and I sigh.

"Elena-" I try to say but she turns back to me and cut me off with a finger.

"Look, I don't know what's gotten into you today and I don't like it, but..." she pauses for a long time between her last word and the rest, "I want you to do something for me."

This is not good. Not good at all.

"Can you teach me how to surf?" she asks out of the blue and I almost choke, _again_. I don't see why she'd want _me_ to teach her since she already has her personal instructor, and she's done nothing but learn all morning. And as if she can hear my thoughts, she says in a light tone, "Every time I tried, I fell on my ass. Metaphorically and literally."

So _Surfer boy_ isn't exactly the best in the business, what a surprise.

"You just need to try again, it'll come," I tell her, hoping she'll just drop the subject because she can't seriously expect me to teach her this.

"Well it's kinda hard to learn a thing when your so-called instructor is a creepy fetish guy who apparently loves being scratched…" she scrunches up her nose at the last part and I chuckle, a _little_ relieved that she doesn't like him that much. "And you surf _way_ much better than he does."

"I don't know if it's a good idea," I say, and I know she's disappointed. I can tell by the way she's avoiding my eyes. And I want to tell her why, but…

"Why not?" she asks warily and I'm about to lie until she speaks, "No, don't say anything, Damon. Just teach me, _please_."

This isn't a good idea. I shouldn't do that. It'll only bring back old memories and I'm not sure if I can handle it right now, but fuck it.

 _Don't run away from what you might feel for Elena._

Fuck it.

"Okay," I nod, "I'll help you become a wave warrior," I say and her grin grows wider, telling me I've just made the right decision.

"Ooh, sounds violent," she teases and I chuckle.

"Tell me what you've learned already."

"Well, I _sort of_ know how to paddle out," she explains and frowns when she adds with a little pout, "and I know how to get up, but I never last more than two seconds…"

Surfing is rhythm, water and waves. It's all about your technique when you pop up on the board. If she gets her feet planted right, then it won't be this hard to maintain her position while she rides the wave. And she would know that if _Surfer boy_ was a little more experienced.

I stand up and motion for Elena to do the same. "We'll start right here on the beach," I say as I walk over to where my surfboard is lying on the sand, Elena following me. "Lie down on your stomach," I tell her, pointing to the board, "And show me how you pop up."

"I told you I already know how to do a pop-up," she answers and I roll my eyes.

God, she's so stubborn.

"On the board, Elena. Come on," I order and she sighs, doing as I instruct, getting down on it and sliding her stomach against the surface. I nudge her foot with mine and she moves a little so she's more balanced in the middle and her cute bikini-clad butt is peeking at me. Well, hello to you too.

Yeah, teaching Elena how to surf while she's wearing black bikini bottoms is a fucking _brilliant_ idea.

Get your shit together, Damon.

I squat down next to her face and tell her to pretend to be paddling through water.

She sighs. "I feel like a dork."

"You look like one too," I snort and she smacks my shoulder. "I'm kidding, you look adorable," I taunt again and this time she blushes, pursing her lips against a smile.

She shows me how she pops up, pushing on her arms like _Surfer boy_ had taught her, bending her knees together and bringing her legs underneath her, until she's completely crouching on the board. _That_ is how not to do it. I have a feeling about something and I need to be sure before we can start all over again.

"Come with me for a minute," I stand up and extend my hand to Elena and she doesn't hesitate before taking it and pulling herself up. I lead her away from the board and toward the water, grabbing her shoulders as I position her in front of me. I'm suddenly too aware of her warmth underneath one _single_ layer of clothes and the proximity of her skin to my fingertips, her back fitting perfectly into my chest. Just like a puzzle that was cut and shaped for me, and me alone.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, squirming closer and leaning more against me.

"I want you to close your eyes."

She looks back at me over her shoulder. "Damon, closing my eyes isn't going to make me a better surfer."

I chuckle and gently push her chin so she's facing away from me again. "Just relax," I tell her softy, but my voice is husky when I add, "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. You trust me, right?"

She nods and we wait like this for a long moment, listening to the lull of the surf and when Elena gives a huff of impatience, I finally shove her forward. A little rough, I know, but it's the only reliable way I can think of right now to be sure. I lean in to see how she reacts to the push and that's what I thought. She kicked out her _right_ foot to keep her from falling.

I was right.

She turns back to face me, looking furious as hell and I grin. "What the hell?"

I shrug. "You're a goofy," I say automatically and she raises her eyebrows, not satisfied with my short answer. "I wanted to see which foot you put forward to catch yourself," I correct and her expression isn't softening so I keep explaining, "You put your right foot out first, which means your left side is stronger and is trying to direct you."

"So…?" she asks, squinting her eyes and I smile.

"You're left-footed, _so_ your stance on the board will be right foot forward and not the other way around."

She nods in understanding and playfully swats my arm once we leave the water.

I spend the next forty-five minutes showing her a few basics on the sand: paddling, properly popping up with fluid grace and positioning her body on the board. Step by step, without any rush. The first few times she tries, she sort of loses her balance and falls into the sand, and I make her start over and over until she seems to get the hang of it. And it would probably not last this long if I'm not constantly adjusting her legs or standing with her body rubbing all against mine while making her move through the stance with me.

And every time the breeze catches her moka-brownish hair and crosses it over her lips, I _want_ to reach out and move it away from her mouth with my fingers, but I don't.

Really great way to get my shit together.

She tries one more time, gracefully arching her body this time, quickly pulling her feet under her and popping up into a surfing stance. Her knees are soft, shoulders relaxed and body in perfect balance and I think she's finally ready.

"Elena, meet the ocean," I smirk, tilting my head toward the water and she jumps in excitement, tucking _my_ board under her arm and running to the ocean but she doesn't go very far. A little more than waist-deep and I can't help but to smile as I wade into the waves to catch her.

I loop an arm around her waist, holding both sides of the board so she can climb on it without rolling into the water. When she's comfortably settled, I take care of the leash around her ankle, because she's going to fall more than once and the leg rope will keep the board from being swept away and hurting her in the process.

I swim around to face her but there's something strange in her expression now, close to fear and I don't understand why so I ask her, "You okay?"

"Just go easy on me, I'm not a huge fan of oceans."

"Saltwater?"

"No, jellyfish," she whispers so quietly I have to ask her to repeat it. "Jellyfish freak me out, that's why I've always preferred pool."

"You'd rather swim through urine than saltwater?" I laugh under my breath, holding onto the board as a wave rolls over us and she scoots up a little, wincing when her toes make a squeaking noise against the waxy surface.

She narrows her eyes at me."I'll let you know that people are more likely to pee in the ocean than a pool."

I grin. "You totally have, haven't you?"

"I have what? Peed in a pool? No!"

I burst out laughing.

"You do realize, that if you got stung by a jellyfish," I tell her in a serious tone, "I'd have to pee on your feet," I taunt and Elena chokes out a laugh, cupping her long and delicate fingers around her mouth and trying not to lose balance on the floating thing. I honestly don't know why she even puts up with me. "Elena," I continue and this time I _do_ tuck a strand of hair behind her ear because I can't help it and I _want_ to do it anyway, "I won't let anything happen to you."

She smiles, her eyes drifting from mine and toward the ocean again and it looks like she's nodding to herself when she says, "I'm ready."

I coach her again, letting her practice without waves and adjust to the new environment. She does exactly as I tell her, paddling faster, pushing up, standing and even if it takes some tumbling into the churning water, I'm always here to catch her and help her climb onto the board again.

It takes six more tries before I decide to let her ride a small wave in.

When it comes, I give her board a little push over the wave and instruct her to paddle as fast as she can. She catches it immediately, the speed giving her a rush she probably wasn't expecting but she's doing really great, flying on the board across the water and not stopping until the wave dies.

She paddles back in my direction, beaming like a little girl. "I want to try a pop-up now."

"You sure you're ready?"

"Yep," she replies proudly, popping the 'p' and I reach out to wipe away a few drops of saltwater left on her cheeks.

"When a wave comes, I'm going to push you into it and you're going to paddle as hard as you can," I tell her softly, trying to keep my face gentle and my voice patient and encouraging. "When you hear me yell 'pop up', you're going to do exactly what you did on the sand and the water just moments ago," she nods and I go on, "The wave will start to carry you, you'll just _feel_ it and that's when you'll jump up. When you fall, make sure you cover your head so you won't hit that beautiful face of yours in the board."

She blushes and I don't care if I'm making it too obvious anymore and instinctively cup one side of her face in my hand, my eyes looking into hers and my thumb grazing over her cheekbone.

"And _if_ you get in trouble, I'll be right there and come and get you right away. Okay?" she takes a deep breath and nods again. I smile, hooking a finger under her chin and tilting her face up to me. "Now just relax and have fun."

I let go of her, and she's about to say something but I don't give her the opportunity. I'm already pushing her and she's paddling just like I told her to. When her board catches the momentum of the wave, I command her to pop-up and she straightens her arms in the push-up position, scoots her knees forward and gets on her stronger foot. But she's not keeping her arms out for balance and before she even has a chance to try and stand, she falls sideways, the wave rolling over her.

Panic rushes through me like lightning through my blood, and I start swimming toward her but Elena bobs up, her hair plastering her face and water bursting out of her nose. She turns to me with a full grin on, laughing so hard and so free and I damn well know that feeling, this rush of adrenaline, and this exhilaration. Your body becomes attuned to every sensation, your energy peaks and it's _addicting_ , but seeing it on Elena feels a hundred times better.

And I'm so lost on the blissful sound of her laughter that I actually laugh too and she's just so…

So precious.

She grabs hold of the surfboard and pushes herself onto it again, as if her body and mind were just made for this and I'm stunned. That's it, I'm stunned.

Another wave is coming, and she has her back to it, still squirming against the board and fuck, I really want her to catch this one. But she's gonna fall soon if she doesn't start paddling like _now_.

"Paddle!" I yell and she starts paddling, but it's not enough. She needs to give it more power. "Harder, Elena!"

And it's like instinct just tells her when and how to pop-up as she steadies herself for a moment, before suddenly standing up, floating and whizzing around, the roar of the ocean dancing all around her and she's still up on her board.

Elena is surfing.

She is surfing, and screaming and screaming and screaming, and I'm so fucking proud of her.

She rides the wave all the way to the shore until the board bottoms out on the wet sand, and she falls off. I shake my head in amusement, swimming back to the land and she already has unhooked the surfboard from the safety strap around her ankle when she spins around to find me, a huge smile on her face. I push to my feet and stamp over the next few waves as Elena runs toward me, laughing with a pure, wild, joy that I sure as hell never heard come from anyone before.

I quicken my pace as I reach out for her and she bumps into my chest, colliding hard with me and before I know what's happening, I'm wrapping mine around her thin frame, and she's throwing her arms around my neck. She pulls me closer and I squeeze her tight, briefly lifting her up and making her giggle in surprise.

All of this feels like it was my purpose for coming here this summer and I just didn't know it. Her wet body is perfectly molded against mine and there's nothing else in the world. Nothing more important than this exact moment. Nothing more important than Elena.

"I was _surfing,_ Damon!" she squeals and I set her back down carefully, her small hands still on my shoulders. "Oh my god, I really did it. I really did it!"

"You were amazing," I tell her sincerely, holding on to her upper arms, and she can't stop smiling and neither can I.

"Thank you," she says sweetly, looking directly at me, her brown eyes shining with excitement and all I can think about is how short three months really is.

My gaze falls to her mouth as she licks the saltwater from her lips and there's suddenly a pressure in my chest. It's making me high. She is making me high. My veins are buzzing, my head is light, adrenaline is surging through my whole body and envy is burning in my blood.

A rush. Incredible. Intoxicating.

Like riding the perfect wave.

So utterly irresistible that I couldn't stay away

It's madness.

And I know I don't deserve to be anywhere near her, but _who_ is this girl?

She's just a girl. A girl I can see myself with. A girl I can lose myself into. Willingly abandon all self-control.

 _No_.

I need to get back on track and right myself. This wasn't anticipated. This wasn't part of my plan. Never have been.

I should have stayed away. I should have packed away and left the minute I talked to her.

I'm a man who prides himself on personal control. I've learned to live the way a chess-player plays, thinking everything over _very_ carefully and weighing every consequences of every move. It's made me who I am today, and I don't understand how the hell I managed to shut down reality for the last few moments and let myself get distracted.

How I completely forgot myself.

How my first instinct wasn't to remember and miss Hayley, but to enjoy Elena as she was riding her first wave.

And as a rule, I never allow myself to be distracted. Yet, I felt satisfied in a way because she made me forget the misery of Hayley's loss, even for a short moment.

Ric's words are coming back to me _._

 _Don't run away from what you might feel for Elena._

I never ran away from anything. I was unstoppable, but so was Hayley and that's exactly what led to her death. That's when I pushed away all the things that had the potential to make me happy, anything that could take me away from my grief.

Family, love and everything.

Everything.

My breathing quickens and the beach seems suddenly too small.

I need space.

I need air.

I need to get the hell out of here.

Elena is talking and soothing me, and I think I can feel her arms around me, trying to get me to sit down but I can't be sure. I can't listen or look at anything right now. It's not that I don't want to, it's just that everything is spinning. My stomach burns as I think about what I can do to stop this feeling, and there _has_ to be a way but...

I've really got to sit down or lean against something because I can't breathe.

I put my head down and try to pull air into my lungs but it's not working and I'm breathing furiously, focusing my mind on this moment, on the need to put one foot in front of the other. I start walking far, far away. I don't know from what or where. Until I stop.

I have to open my mouth, I can't get enough air through my nose.

And I'm trying my hardest to keep it together because I can't fall apart when Elena is only a few steps behind, but I _can't_ fucking breathe.

It's happening again, everything is crashing down on me and I just want it to stop. I want to forget.

I...I need Hayley back.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts and opinions. Good or bad. It gives me a feel of the perception of the story and I like getting e-mails telling me I have reviews for this story. Feel free to share any ideas and suggestions as well.**

 **Get ready for next chapter; we'll get to know more about Damon's backstory after his panic attack. And there might be a few tears here and there…**

 **I'll see you next time!**


	5. One Step Forward, Two Steps Backwards

**A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews! Posting the next chapter a bit earlier than I had originally expected, but I figured why not, as it was done and ready to go.**

 **Sorry about the cliffhanger at the end of last chapter- it was either stop it there or make it a super, super long chapter so I went for the cliffhanger route!**

 **This new chapter picks up right where the last one left off- and please, don't hate me too much for what happens…**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter V:** _One Step Forward, Two Steps Backwards_

 _Feet don't fail me now, don't fail me now, you're all I got.*_

Breathe.

You're alive.

You're okay.

Fuck, it's not working.

I am having a panic attack. Haven't had one of these in months and I thought they were part of the past. They're terrifying, absolutely terrifying. Everything is spinning and there's nothing worse than having your mind race out of control.

I don't even know if they're a _real_ thing or just a feeling. The feeling that you can't breathe, can barely see, are being crushed. That you're going to die. And what makes it even worse is the fact that there's still a part of your mind that works properly and _knows_ you're going crazy, but doesn't do a goddamn thing to help you out of that mess.

It's like drowning in a pit of despair.

You can't stop yourself no matter how hard you try and all you can do is wait as it goes on and on. And _anything_ would be better than letting it go on. Even dying seems less painful.

My head is pounding so hard. I need to slow down.

It fucking _hurts_.

Small fingers clamp down on my shoulder, a hand rests on top of mine. Lips touch my hair, warm breaths weaves through each strand. It's the most calming touch I have ever felt and I need to hold onto it. I need to reach out for it. I need to come back to it. But the circle of black is still closing around me, not giving this chance.

"It's me, Elena," she whispers in a soothing tone and her voice is my only comfort. "You're okay. I'm here for you."

I can't breathe, I can't think straight, I can't speak. And I can't hear her anymore.

Her hand moves to my back, scratching and smoothing, and the white current of terror is being invaded by a pool of soft, warm sensations, her touch resonating through my bloodstream.

"Look at me, Damon. Look into my eyes."

Eyelids twitching, the blur in my vision begins to refocus. I open my eyes and find hers, so brown, so brown. Eyes that can melt you with their facade of chocolate and then crush you with their under-layer of earth and soil. One look into them and you're lost-doomed for all eternity, because no other eyes will ever compare. They pull me in and capture my attention, and I know I'd stare into them whether she wants to take a look at me or not.

She laces her fingers through mine and I want to squeeze her back but I'm too weak, too scared. I can crush her hand, crush her. And maybe I'm already squeezing her so hard, I don't know. I see Elena, see her mouth moving but hear nothing. Absolutely nothing. Her free hand is running up my arm, slowly, carefully, until it finds my neck, my face. Her fingertips wipe away the wetness from my sweat and it feels like the pressure is fading away, calming into a warm fuzziness.

I start to hear sounds again, words, her voice.

"Damon… Talk to me, please. I'm here and you're going to be just fine."

 _No, not yet. But don't leave me._

I feel the flutter of her hands in my hair again and I know I should push her away, but I can't find the strength. Don't want to find it. Instead, I close my eyes and enjoy her presence, her touch, her sweet fragrance enveloping me and sending warmth trickling deep inside me.

"Feel me. Breathe with me, Damon," she says and I hold onto that wonderful sound. With her I feel safe.

"Elena…" I say between chokes. Hearing her voice is such a relief that all I can do is repeat her name again and again.

"Keep your eyes closed," she says and I do. "Focus on the sound of my voice, and only my voice. Take tiny puffs of air. Slow, even breaths. I'm right here and I'm not going to leave you. Now, lean your head back and breathe in then out."

I tilt my head backwards and a rush of air escapes from my mouth. The pressure is so intense, I fight myself not to throw up and I keep very still as she brushes my hair straight back from my forehead in light, gentle strokes. "Don't fight it. Just breathe in. That's it. That's much better. Breathe out. Count to ten," she says, running her fingers along my eyebrow, soothing my aching head and I almost moan in relief. "I'll count with you, and don't forget to keep breathing for me. One."

I suck in a breath. "Yes, just like that, you're doing well," she tells me. "Two. Three."

She represents warmth, everything good and all hope in my world. She's lifting some of the black cloak weighing me down and I want to tell her she's holding my very sanity in her grasp but I still can't talk.

"Four- Breathe slowly and deeply. Relax," Elena says. "Five."

My muscles twitch on their own accord, and I let them, still concentrating on Elena's voice.

"Six," she says, her voice calm and even. "Seven."

I'm still gasping for breath and sweating, but the attack has passed.

"Eight. Nine."

Elena's fingers gently pull away from my face and find their way back to my hands. I finally get a full breath into my lungs, and it helps me calm down. My heart slows, my breathing is steadier and I open my eyes, sinking back into this pool of scared and worried brown.

"Ten," we whisper together.

She's kneeling in front of me and I stare into her eyes, focusing on the ring of amber that's encircling her pupil. The tension in my shoulder has eased and I realize I've been digging my nails into her palms. I immediately loosen my grip on her but she squeezes even harder, refusing to let me go, and blows out a breath of relief.

A tear slides down her cheek, another one and a third one, and I weakly reach out to wipe them away. I hate that she had to see me like this. "Why are you crying?" I ask above a whisper because that's clearly all I can manage, and she covers my hand with hers.

"You scared me so much, Damon…"

"Scared myself," I tell her and while I intertwine my fingers with hers, I start thinking back about what triggered this mess. But when I see her licking her lips, all I can remember is how much I wanted to kiss her, to just have a taste before I lost it. Totally lost it.

Fuck, she probably thinks I'm crazy or _worse_.

I look back into her eyes and see nothing but genuine concern and my heart sinks deeper. "I'm sorry for…this," I say and I really am because I never wanted her to witness something like that, and for me to scare her the way I did.

"Don't be," she rushes out and I bring our hands in my lap, softly stroking her skin with my thumb because I _need_ the contact. "But tell me, are you- are you okay now?" I nod and she sighs in relief. "Anything else I can help you with right now?"

I nod again and she gives me a questioning look. "If you could find me the full box set of _House of Cards_ in here somewhere, and a big-screen TV, that'd be great."

She laughs between sobs and I know that from now on, I just have to play that sound on repeat every time I'll need to hear it. "Sure. It's already waiting for you along with my trampoline and Maserati. Go crazy."

I chuckle quietly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "Just stay with me?" She nods, letting go of my hand, and crawls beside me. I realize only know that I'm wearing my shirt, but I don't remember putting it on and my back is being supported by something, but I can't figure out what. I look around, for the first time noticing that we're not on the beach anymore. Instead, we're in a parking lot, sitting on the ground and leaning against a wall. "Elena?"

"Yeah?" she says and turns her face to me.

"How the hell did we end up here?"

"You don't remember?" she asks softly, and I glance back at her, shaking my head no. "I brought you here after you _kinda_ fainted. I mean you could still walk on your own, but you were… _Out_. "

God, I hate putting her through this shit.

"Sounds like kidnapping to me," I taunt and she huffs a laugh.

"Yeah, well sue me," she cocks an eyebrow at me and I smile, still not believing that she stayed by my side the entire time, and is not thinking any less of me. "Damon, what happened?" she asks but her voice is so quiet that the question almost isn't there. "What's going on with you? Why all the walls? You know you can trust me."

Her cheeks are almost as pink as her lips and… Her lips.

No.

Fucking no.

Why do I always keep making the mistake of looking at her lips?

I look away from her, from her lips and a beastly roar rises up in me. I force myself to swallow it down and take a deep breath, even if it's still hurting.

 _What happened?_ I know what she's asking. She doesn't want to know what the hell that pathetic show was. It was just a panic attack. She wants to know _why_ I lost control. Why I freaked out.

What really happened is that I can barely control myself anymore when I'm around her, and I shouldn't be allowing myself to feel anything for her right now, especially given the fact that too soon I'll have to leave. But still, I can't help but let myself enjoy her as long as I can, like earlier on the beach when kissing her was the only thing I had in mind. And it scared me.

The choices I made ever since Hayley died kept me from making stupid and rash decisions. That's why I freaked out. Because getting sidetracked by romance has always been the last thing on my to-do-list. Hell, I don't even know what romance is. I just _don't_ do that. That's why I will _never_ use Elena and throw her aside. Never. But deep down, there's this selfish part of me that wants her badly. Even if it's just for ten minutes or a little taste. It would take anything she has to offer and is dying to know if she feels the same way.

It's wrong on so many levels, I know. But for the first time in my life, Elena made me feel _something,_ even for a short moment. A glimpse of what letting go might feel like, of what happiness might even be. Only the thing is, I promised that I'd never allow myself to feel these things, not when Hayley isn't there to share them with me. Because that's what they say about twins, right? Feel each other's pain and emotions, get ill at the same time, read their sibling's mind, have a bond like no other.

And that shit is _real_.

My mom used to tell us the same stories over and over again. Her favorite one was about that time when we were babies and Hayley got really sick and had to go to the hospital. I spent the entire night crying and screaming as if whatever she was going through, I was feeling. Or that time when we were in fourth grade and I was suddenly overcome by this feeling that she was hurt in some way. I left the classroom and ran to the nurse only to found her with a fractured cheekbone. And how many times did I fucking fell off my bike and she felt as if her hands and knees were being scraped at the same time as mine?

Every single time she was upset, I'd just _know_ it. And when we were in the same room, all we needed was a look to understand what the other was thinking. But she's gone now, and I can't feel those damn things anymore. And whenever I tend to forget myself, to allow some distractions in, I shut down like I did today.

But nobody is usually here to catch me or help me through the attack. I'd just wait for it. Sometimes it goes on for five minutes, sometimes it lasts longer, two hours, even three.

But today, Elena was _here_.

I look at her again and the faint smile on her face is all the encouragement I need to ask her, "Did Stefan ever told you anything about our past?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not that close to him… We don't really talk about these things," she pauses and I swallow. "And the same thing goes for Caroline, I think she's more interested in telling me about her nails than her boyfriend's family backstory."

I nod and blow out a breath. This is a first. I've never told anyone about Hayley, because they'd either know by themselves or I'd just tell them to fuck off when they ask. I look down and say, "There's something I need to tell you," I say and I feel her tense next to me. "I never talk about this, because it's too fucking painful to even-"

"Damon," she cuts me off and places her hand on my knee. "If it's that painful, you don't have to talk about it now," she smiles warmly. "Just know I'm always here to listen."

She's offering me a way out. I can still hide and keep as a secret the things I want to. But I need to tell _her_ , not anyone else, just her. I can't keep it from her any longer. I could play dumb, I could lie to her, but I don't want to. Because it's cracking inside me and I trust her with everything I have, right now.

I take her hand for the hundredth time today, and exhale. "No, it's okay. I want to tell you. I need to."

She nods and turns her body to me, leaning her head against the wall. I glance back at her, and her eyes and expression turn into a whole listening mode when they focus on me.

My head is flooded with memories from so long ago, most of which I've buried in the depths of me, in hopes that I'd never have to relieve them. But here I am, ready to pull them out and share them with Elena.

I struggle with how much to tell her and I'm suddenly not really sure about starting this conversation.

But I have to.

So I tell her the truth. I tell her everything. The story pours out of me in fits and starts. I tell her my twin sister died, three years ago, and my mind and heart ache with anger at hearing the words because I've never said them out loud. I thought the pain would get easier with time, but it stings. And it _hurts_ so much, just like scratching an itch with a knife until reaching the bone. But Elena's touch is keeping me from breaking down again, so I keep talking. I tell her Hayley died in a car accident and the guy who _used_ to be my father was driving. She worked overnight and we usually had dinner together in between her shifts, but the night she died, I was running late and couldn't meet her in time. So she called my dad instead. He insisted on driving her back to work but the bastard was drunk, and Hayley hardly refused him a thing.

It was fucking snowing and they hit black ice and spun out of control. He survived, he fucking survived, but Hayley was killed instantly.

I take a long pause, because it's all too much, and I look at one of the cars in front of us. I remember the night the police called about the accident. I was still in my car and drove like mad to the hospital. The longest drive of my life. But it was too late, she was already dead in that intense care unit. We never got to say goodbye and I'll always wonder what was going through her head, if she was scared or in pain or even capable of thought. But I'll never know.

I'll never any of that because he killed her. He killed my own blood. My own DNA.

Stefan forgave him, saying the bastard could barely live with the fact he'd been driving the car that killed our sister. He didn't want to hate him and let the bitterness have control on him, but I did and still do. He's still alive and she's not. I haven't talked to him since the accident, not even once. And I sure as hell don't want to look at him ever again.

With a flip of my hand, I intertwine my fingers with Elena's and she scoots closer to me, resting her head on my shoulder. I tell her a part of me had been wrenched away. I lost my way after the accident. Got rebellious, got in trouble. Almost lost my job. Ended up fighting with Stefan even if he was still young. I don't remember the few months after her death. It's like I was in a coma the whole time. Everything was a blur. My mind was too numb. Until I decided to leave New-York.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Damon," Elena whispers and sucks in a breath, giving my hand a tight squeeze but I pretend like I haven't seen some of her tears.

She asks me all kind of questions about Hayley. What was she like, what her hobbies were, where did she learn to surf. She also asks about my mom and I tell her she died of cancer when we were really young. It was fast and unexpected, but unlike Hayley's death, I made peace with my mom's a long time ago. I knew she was suffering and left for a better place, not like my sister who's been selfishly taken away from me.

And finally, I tell her that if I had a panic attack, it's only because I was too caught up in the moment and felt like I didn't belong there for a moment, and yeah, shit happens.

Elena slowly lifts her head up and rests her chin on my shoulder. "Just because you're not aware of a thought doesn't mean it's not in your heart."

I nod, because that's what I keep telling myself but sometimes it's just not enough.

"Thank you. For everything," I tell her sincerely and I don't mean just for helping me breathe again, but for listening to me, being here with me and mostly being herself. I hope she understands that.

"It was just a panic attack, nothing to die over," she says but the second the words leave her, she slaps a hand over her mouth. "Oh my god, I shouldn't have said that, I didn't mean…" she sputters through her fingers. "It's just when I get nervous, I lose the filter between my mouth and my brain and…" she groans and brings her knees up, tucking her face against them, and a faint smile pull my lips together when she stage-whispers under her breath, "God, shut _up_ , Elena!"

"Elena…" I breathe but she cuts me off.

"I'm so sorry, Damon. Sometimes things pop out without me thinking them through…" she mumbles, her face still hidden.

"Look at me," I tell her and she lifts her head very slowly, and I can barely control the grin that's spreading across my face. "Did you just tell yourself to shut up?"

"Maybe," she grumbles and I laugh. I don't know how she always gets me to laugh. "I'm sorry…"

"Elena, it's _fine_."

She clears her throat and say nervously, "Can I ask you something else?" I nod and she goes on. "Why did you choose to leave everything for a never-ending trip around the world?"

"Because that's what we always said we'd do," I tell her and take a small moment to smile at the memory. "When we were fourteen, Hayley made a list of all the countries she wanted us to visit. She talked about it _all_ the time. After she died, I found that list back and I just knew I had to do it for her."

I briefly glance back at Elena, and she's smiling warmly so I continue, "Maybe it was just an excuse to run away from all the pain and heartbreak, not that this hasn't always been something I wanted to do, because it has. But until her death…"

"You just saw it as big beautiful dream?" she says and I nod. "And you just wanted to pursue her passion as your memory for her."

I look at her, shocked because that's exactly what it is. "You sure you didn't switch your English classes with Psych ones?"

She laughs quietly and we don't say anything else for a few minutes. We just sit and I think back to everything I just told her. And somehow, talking about Hayley and going through old times didn't hurt like it usually does. Instead, it felt good to share these things with someone else, to lift up the shade of memories. To let some lights in. But I know it wouldn't have felt the same if that someone else hasn't been Elena.

In the distance I hear the baying of a dog and the coolness of the night washes out the still-burning in my lungs. I realize it's late and we should probably go back to the villa.

"Come on," I say, standing up, and Elena slowly puts her hand in mine. I pull her to her feet and unable to help myself, slip my free arm around her waist, balancing her in my arms. God, it feels so good to hold her like this.

She tips her head up and peers at me through her eyelashes. "Damon…" she whispers, biting her lower lip. I press my forehead to hers, fighting to clear my head from the fog of desire that is taking over all thoughts in my mind as my arm tightens around her waist. "Do you feel it? This thing between us?"

Her breath is washing over my lips and I can barely focus on anything right now. I hear her say my name again and it shots a shiver down my spine and makes my cock scream in agony. Because when I'm touching her, everything makes sense again and fever rages through my bloodstream. Of course I felt the 'thing' she's talking about. I felt it the second I laid eyes on her. But I know better. It's just a false promise of a tomorrow I can never have or give to her.

As much as I fucking want to.

I try to summon a response, but not a single word wants to come out. So I make myself let go of her, putting a safe few feet between us, and I look away, too ashamed to even face her and too selfish to handle the intensity in her eyes. I clear my throat and cowardly come up with something that doesn't make sense. "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking."

I lie. I know exactly what I was thinking. My hands on her body, all these thoughts in my head. I should have stopped.

"Ignoring it won't make it go away. You're just pushing me away because you're scared."

"What?" I blurt out, looking up to face her because I wasn't expecting that of all hell.

She steps closer.

"You're scared of how you feel. You're scared of how _I_ feel. You're scared to let go, to live the life you want instead of the one people think you should live," she pauses and let out a small breath, "But most of all, you're scared to feel pain again."

"You seem to have me all figured out," I snap, trying to sound sarcastic, as if my emotions were not affected by her words but they are. Why does she have to be stubborn and look at me like she actually gives a damn?

"No, but I'd like to," she replies, with a hint of sadness in her tone, not reacting to my rudeness.

She shakes her head again and grabs my face in both of her hands, forcing me to look at nothing but her, a voice soft and sweet when she says, "Don't push me away, Damon. Let me be there for you."

I close my eyes, and sigh. She's getting under my skin too easily. It's too dangerous. "You don't need someone like me in your life, Elena. I'm selfish, messed up and things have a way of becoming too complicated around me. You don't need that."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" she arches an eyebrow, and gives me a small smile. Twisted. Rueful. And once again, I step away from her touch. I'm becoming really good at it.

My pain hardens in my chest. I know what I have to do.

"I can't," it comes out a roar and I hear her soft intake of breath, but I can't bear to look at the hurt on her face, knowing _I_ am the reason it's there in the first place. I want to tell her how hard it is to be around her when all I want to do is touch her, but I don't. Her bottom lip faintly trembles and I want to take back everything I just said and go back to having her in my arms. But it's easier to be rude. And if I push her away enough, she won't want me. And that's how it always should have been. "You deserve so much better."

"Then give me better," she pleads, her voice trembling, shoulders shaking and a tear running down her cheek.

My heart clenches.

"Dammit, Elena. _Stop_ ," my voice spits it, harsh. "I'm trying to do the right thing here."

She wipes away her tear, and shame boils up in me, edged with guilt and frustration. I hate doing this to her but I want her to know exactly the mess she's escaping. Because she needs someone steady, a normal everyday hero, someone her age who doesn't have the lifestyle I do.

She needs someone different from me.

Her eyes flare, determined. "I care about you, Damon. And there's not a single thing you can do about it."

"Elena, you shouldn't…" I trail off and it kills me to see the pain in her eyes "I can't."

"You can't or you don't want to?" she snarls harshly, narrowing her eyes at me. The emotion and hurt in her voice is too much to handle. She turns on her heels but I catch her wrist and stop her from walking any further.

"It's not that, Elena. It's not about how I _feel_ about you, because I care more than you can imagine. And deep down you know that."

I let it slip because I don't want her to think she doesn't mean anything to me.

She shakes her head. "But that's all that matters, Damon. How we feel. Anything else can be worked out."

"What happens at the end of summer then?" I ask her bitterly, but she refuses to look at me doesn't answer my question. "Tell me, what happens when you go back to your life and I go back to mine?"

Silence.

"That's not how my life works," I tell her and bit the inside of my lip when she finally meets my eyes. "What's happening between us is just a fantasy, and I shouldn't have let it get this far. If we slow things before we get in any deeper…"

"It's already too late, Damon…" she whispers, looking deeply into my eyes and yanks her hand out of my grasp. "I'm all in. And so are you, but you'd rather put that friendzone crap on me."

"I'm doing this for you, Elena," I mutter through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at her. "Not for my benefit, believe me."

"Thank you, but I think I can watch out for my own feelings," she hisses, sounding hurt as hell, and I _hate_ it. I hate it.

She steps a little closer to me and I have to force myself not to crush her body against mine. She lifts her chin up defiantly, all trace of softness gone from her eyes. All I see now is regret and embarrassment, and I'll hate myself forever for making her feel this way. "You think you're doing the right thing, I think you're making one huge mistake."

I lie again. "You don't know what you're saying…"

She shakes her head and the helpless feeling magnifies as the warmth of her body slides away from me. She turns and walks away, leaving me standing in a pile of my own shit, feeling empty and alone in a parking lot. And scared just as she said I was. How could someone be so scared to live? To take risks? To accept love?

I don't stop her this time. I clench my jaw tight so I don't beg her to come back. She walks away, very slowly and I watch her go, trying to enroll every detail, every moment of perfection in memory. Every step she takes, I watch. And with each step, I hope with every ounce of my being that she'll just turn around and give me another chance at not hurting her and make it all go away. But with each step, I'm disappointed because she nevers looks back.

"Elena…" but by the time I sputter out my protest, she's already out of earshot. And I realize too late that I may have just lost her. I pushed her away and basically made her leave when she didn't want to, and that hurts even more.

I fucked everything up.

That horrible numbness is sinking in my body again. I can feel it drive through my skin straight to my bones. The pain is harder than any physical pain I can feel. The colors fade the further Elena walks. My soul aches. The air becomes stale again. My heart slows.

No, this can't be happening again.

* * *

*Foxes - Feet Don't Fail Me Now

* * *

 **A/N: Annnd cue the tears!**

 **Okay, so this wasn't in the original plot plan but as I was writing the chapter I remembered that we were talking about** _ **Damon**_ **here, and it's obviously still early enough on that he doesn't know how to really deal with his feelings. So it's only natural for him to push people away.**

 **I'm sorry about all the feels at the end there, but it had to be done and next chapter will make up for it though, I promise!**

 **Can't wait to hear your thoughts!**


	6. Dangerous Addiction

**A/N: A HUGE thank you to scarlett2112 for mentioning this story in one of her author's notes! xx**

 **This chapter jumps a few days from the last one but I can't say more…**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter VI:** _Dangerous Addiction_

I'm sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels and watching every now and then the damn clock tick down.

Bored.

Trying not to think about Elena.

And failing.

She's been out all day and I should probably move to my room before she comes back and finds me here. Because that'd be one kind of motherfucking _weird_ and I don't want her to feel even more uncomfortable than she already is around me now.

It's been three days.

Seventy-two hours.

Four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes.

And Elena still hasn't said a word to me. Hasn't meet my eyes once. She doesn't want to talk to me. She doesn't even want to glance at me. Not a single fucking word. Not a single look, expect that one time I've caught her shooting daggers at me with her eyes. I felt _every single one of them_ burning and piercing my skin. Reminding me that I'm nothing but a cold-hearted, careless asshole in her eyes.

Other than that, she just ignores me. Pretends I'm not there. It's probably a good thing- at least for her, that the villa is as big a whole town itself, meaning she doesn't have to try hard to avoid me. Even when it's just me, Elena and Ric, she keeps her eyes on him and only speaks to him. And I know I deserve that, but _still_. I can't believe I ruined what might be the only good thing in my life right now.

And the worse is, it's only been three days she's mad at me but it seems like forever, and being without her sucks. We weren't even together, _together_ , but we were inseparable and I just don't feel right now, like some piece of me is missing. And there's also the fact I can't explain, that Elena is the only one I can't stop thinking about, and she also happens to be the one person who's been able to calm all the crazy mess in my mind.

And I can't stand the idea of slowly losing her, because I'm not able to separate her non-judging goodness and optimism from all the chaos in my head anymore. It's tangled together and she is my new sanity. I'm _low_ without her.

And yeah, I miss her.

The door opens and adrenaline pumps through my veins, forcing me to sit up and reach for the book in front of me. _Really_ subtle.

Caroline locks gaze with me and I roll my eyes, sinking back down on the couch and throwing the book away.

She comes into the living room and sits down next to me on the couch. Fuck. Not right now. "You look like shit," she laughs and I have the strong urge to bash her head against the floor. "It suits you."

"Thanks," I reply sarcastically, flipping the remote in my hand and turn to face her with a fake smile. "You can go away, now."

"Having a bad night, Pooh Baby?" she croons, settling into the couch. I make a move to stand and _leave_ , but she grabs my arm and shoves me back down. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on."

"Nothing," I groan, carving further into the cushions. "Just leave it alone,"

"Fine, ask me how was my night then."

I ignore her.

"Oh, thank you so much for asking, sweetie," Caroline clutches at her chest and I snarl at her. "It was fabulous. We ate and danced, _and_ a guy who's the opposite from you, I mean, blond, _really_ tall and nice, gave Elena his number and asked her to call him soon…"

Okay, now _that_ gets my attention. "And why are you telling me this?"

She cocks her head to one side, raising her eyebrow. "Why are you pouting like a fool?"

"You're not going to back off, are you?"

"Nope," she winks, setting her elbow on the back of the couch and rests her face against her fist.

I roll my eyes and sigh. "Tonight sucked. And so did the the night before, and the night before and-"

"Does this have something to do with a certain, awesome best friend of mine who's not talking to you?" Caroline asks with a mischievous grin in her voice, and I don't answer because she's stupid for asking such thing. She already knows. Of course it has something to do with Elena. It _always_ does. Doesn't take a genius to realize that. "You seemed to be happy until she made a move on you, which you turned down," Caroline goes on and I cut my eyes at her. "And now, you're the _one_ moping around. Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

I drop my head on the back of the couch with an exasperated exhale. "I didn't turned herdownbecause I _wanted to_ ," I say and my insides twist in knots at the memory. "I was just doing the right thing by her. She'll be better off without me in her life."

"Did you ask her if she would be better off without you?"

"No," I mumble, staring at the ceiling.

"Then why won't you let her decide if you're good enough for her? Why do you get to hold all the cards?"

"Why exactly are we talking about this?"

"Because you two are being silly, staying away from each other," Caroline tells me sweetly, in a voice that doesn't sound like the usual her, and I sigh. "I see the way you look at her, Damon. And I've watched your face when she's around. You light up like a damn Christmas tree."

Nice to know I'm that transparent.

I stand up abruptly and walk toward the window, my restless thoughts affecting my nerves. I'm done playing games when it comes to Elena. I'm done hiding behind walls. I'm done pretending I don't want her when I do. I focus on the beach for a moment, the waves a calming sight before I finish my thoughts aloud. "I need to tell her I'm an asshole."

"She'll believe you," Caroline says in a whisper, and I drop back on the couch, glaring at her. "No, but seriously. She's into you. You're into her. Why don't you just go for it?"

I consider her for a second, but then I remember why. Because she's not _for me_. I'm not worthy of her and I will only end up hurting her no matter how hard I try not to. And I may be the biggest selfless monster on the planet, because I sort of got caught up in some weird obsession with Elena and instead of acting on my feelings like my inner instincts were screaming at me to do, I chose the coward's way. I turned her down.

But I _want_ to be selfish for once, get her alone in a room and beg for her forgiveness but I can't apologize for trying to protect her from being hurt. Even if I already hurt her more than I thought I would.

"Listen to me carefully," Caroline snaps suddenly, jabbing a finger at my chest. "Why Elena even likes you is beyond me. But I know that every time she leaves your side, she wears a goofy grin I never even saw her do before she met you," she pauses, pressing her finger deeper. "She gravitates around you, it's _ridiculous_. So whatever is going on between you two, fix it. Understand?"

"She won't talk to me," I remind her and she smacks my head.

"Are you stupid or what? Of course she won't talk to you! _You_ rejected her so _you_ have to talk to her first. And tell her you're a jackass, it'll help you get some points back."

"And why do you want me with Elena?"

She sits up and grabs my shoulders. "As much as I hate saying this, she's good for you and you're good for her." I raise an eyebrow as if to ask why the hell would you even think that and she squints her eyes. "Elena's always been insecure about herself… And before you screwed up, you were starting to change that."

I let it sink it about what she's saying and the idea of _me_ making Elena feel better warms my cold insides, and I'm such an idiot.

"Just so we clear," Caroline stands up and point a finger at me. "One, Elena is my best friend so if you hurt her again, I'm likely to stab you in your sleep and feed you to the sharks," she says threateningly and I chuckle because she's not convincing at all. "Two, you would both be living one hell of a summer together if you allowed yourself to listen to your heart for once. And three, she's parking the car and will be walking through that door in less than two minutes top. Don't screw it up."

She blows me a kiss, a full beam on her face. I narrow my eyes at her as she turns on her heels, aiming up the stairs and firing rapidly.

It's funny how we can be hurt so badly but we don't allow ourselves to feel it. That's how I've been working for quite a while now. I cover it up and sweep it under the rug. I don't think about it and I lie, mostly to myself. But I don't get anything from it. It just keeps hurting even more and I keep pretending and pretending. It never ends.

I am letting it go now. I can't just live my life a certain way because I _think_ I should live it that way or because it pleases others. I need to think for _me_ , and start pleasing myself first, before thinking about anything else.

 _Living one hell of a summer together._

I want that.

The front door opens, drawing me out of my thoughts. My gaze briefly locks with Elena's before she looks away. It was quick, but enough to have me mesmerized by her natural beauty. She doesn't even have to try.

I think about the first night I laid eyes on her face and I remember her smile, the one that can brighten any room, and I just… I want to see it again, and _I_ want to be _the_ onewho puts it on her face.

She closes the door and I know it's now or never.

"Hey," I tell her with a soft smile, which she obviously doesn't return since she's not looking at me, and I let my eyes wander a bit without moving my head. She's wearing jeans shorts, emphasis on _short_ , a tight V-neck shirt and light-colored suede ankle boots, hair falling over shoulders and… I need to stop doing that. I'm just getting myself deeper, and soon I won't be able to climb out of the hole I've dug myself. Even if I'm already far too deep.

"Hi," she replies coldly and only out of politeness. I know it's taking everything from her not to turn around and tell me to fuck off.

I've really upset her, far more than I thought I could have and she still won't look me in the eyes. I've never felt so invisible in my life and it's hitting me hard now.

I _really_ fucked up.

Elena starts walking toward the stairs and what the hell am I doing? She's headed upstairs, which means _away_ from me again, and I'm just sitting there like a fucking moron instead of doing what I should have done long ago. And this time it looks like she's going to walk out my life and never return as I watch her stroll off, and yet I still don't make a move. Nothing.

 _Why don't you just go for it?_

Shit, why are my legs not listening to my head?

And why is Caroline's voice resonating through my head?

 _Whatever is going on between you two, fix it._

Finally, it's my mouth that connects with my head first. "Elena, wait." She doesn't listen and this time, my legs connect to. "Wait!"

She stops still but doesn't turn around, and she sounds annoyed when she croaks, "What do you want?"

I amble over to where she stands. "We need to talk," I whisper. "Elena…" Reaching out, I gently grasp her shoulders and make her turn to face me.

"I'm tired and don't really want to talk to you," she mutters, shrugging out of my grip. "And you don't get to _Elena_ me. You lost that right."

Outch. That fucking stabbed me right in my gut, but I totally understand and deserve it. I can take punches, rejection won't make me back off from her. Not a second time. And even if it's not what I want to hear, at least she's finally talking and I've got her with me. I won't let her leave before I clean my mess and tell her how much of a fucker I am.

She shakes her head, looking down. "You obviously have nothing to-"

Her breath is staccato, like mine. We're both breathing hard, chests rising and falling together and I grab her around her waist, pinning her against the nearest wall. I won't even be surprised if she slaps me right now.

Now that the taste of rejection is fresh on my tongue, I don't like it at all and it destroys me that I've ever let her feel this way. Rejected. Unwanted. And _dammit_ , I need to stop thinking and keep talking instead.

"I'm an asshole."

"Yes, you are," she whispers, still refusing to meet my eyes. "Don't make stand here all night. You have five minutes."

I close my eyes and breathe through my nose, trying to recollect my scattered thoughts together. Having her so close, and yet so out of reach makes it ten times harder than I was expecting. Makes my cock hard too by the way. Her entire body is soft, molding to mine and I just need to touch her.

Nope. Not, right now.

I let go of her waist and place my hands on the wall, above her head. She's still looking away and I can't stand to see her like this anymore.

"Look at me," I whisper, but she shakes her head no and it cuts through me like a knife. Her face is angled away from me so I reach out and hook a finger under her chin so I can see her. But she closes her eyes and shivers as I sigh. I plead in a quiet, almost inexistent voice, "I need to see your eyes."

I stroke her chin with my thumb and softly, sweetly, Elena gives up and I'm finally drowning in her eyes. God, I missed them.

"I can't pretend to be the kind of guy who knows what needs to be said, because I'm not. I'm not good with words or expressing myself," I start and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. But I can tell she doesn't want to me touch her, so I take a step back and shove my hands in my pockets. "I'm good at one thing though, shutting people out. It's all I know. I've never been in a relationship," I say as if feeling the need to explain myself while she probably doesn't care. But it's true. Nothing lasted more than a weekend, but I won't tell her that, because I'm not sure it'll help my case. And dammit I need get to the point. "I don't know how to do this."

Yeah, that was not really getting to the point and not something she'd want to hear.

"Obviously. If you did, we wouldn't be here," she says dryly, and I nod more to myself, my lips pursed together. Yeah, we sure as hell wouldn't be here.

"Let me fix it," I continue, and a shuddering breath leaves her. "I fucked up so much Elena. One second I was letting you in, and the next one I was already shutting you out. It's a stupid defense mechanism." I tell her but I can't read her expression and it kills me. "I'm miserable knowing you're mad at me. And you were right about me. I was- I am scared of feeling too much, wanting too much."

Her brow relaxes somehow and interest flares in her eyes when she asks, "Why?"

I can't answer her because _I_ don't have the answer myself. "I am motherfucking terrified of what I'm feeling for you, that's all I can tell you. But how and where the fuck does it come from, or why so _strong_ and so fast, I don't know…"

She looks at the clock behind me And I understand I'm not forgiven yet. "You have three minutes left."

Three minutes to make this right. Four minutes to prove how much she means to me, and how I never intended to reject her when all I wanted was her.

"I'm fucking _high_ around you all the time," I lean in closer and Elena looks down. I'm trying really hard to keep my hands to myself, even though they're twitching to tilt her face back up to me. "And it's getting hard without my fix now…" My voice is low and I can hear her suck in a breath. "You make me feel things I've never felt before, hell things I didn't think I'd _ever_ feel."

I peer at her closely. Her lips are pressed into a thin line and her forehead buckles with anxiety as she suddenly stares back at me. She sighs heavily before urging me to go on. I smile a little because I've got her right where I want her. I know how much she wanted to hear things like that. I was just an imbecile for not telling her sooner.

"It probably doesn't make sense to you but you managed to turn on a switch, and I _need_ you Elena. More than I ever needed or wanted anything, _anyone_."

"You made it perfectly clear that you didn't want me the other night," she snaps and my heart twists inside my chest. "What changed?"

"Dammit Elena, can't you see? You're making me crazy!" I blurt out and she freezes, her irritation gets chased away by confusion. "No _one_ has ever held my attention, no one ever captured it like you do. And you're all I can think about since the day we met, whether you're around or not."

There's the embarrassing speech. But I'm only met with silence and I'm not sure if I can handle the horrifying quiet.

"Please just say something… You're killing me, Elena…" I beg, and my heart is pounding so loud in my chest, I can't hear anything else.

 _Say something, say anything, just…_

"Why did you do it?" she murmurs, and it's so quiet that it doesn't even sound like an accusation.

I wince. "I'm a fuck-up or whatever you want to call me."

"You're not a fuck-up, Damon. Fuck-ups don't care," she says softly and looks down, biting her lip with a devilish smile starting to form on her lips, and I can't say anything. I am undone by her. By everything that is _her_. "Did you really compare me to your _drug_?"

I nod and shrug, quoting her words from the other day, "You're not the only one who gets to lose the filter between your head and your mouth when you're nervous."

She smiles wider and it feels like all the weight has been lifted off my shoulders. That smile. I'd kill for it. "Am _I_ making you nervous right now?"

What kind of question is that?

"Do you have any idea of how it feels to want something so bad, and it's right in front of you, but you can't touch it?"

Elena nods and with that, she throws herself at me, her arms locking around my neck, and I hold her as tight as I can. As tight as she'll let me. She buries her face in the crook of my neck with a contented sigh and her breath forces goosebumps all over my skin. I don't get how just a touch from her twists me up inside.

"Trust me. I do," she whispers but the sound is muffled by my shirt. I squeeze her gently and press my lips against her hair, breathing her in and finally feeling relieved. "I like you, Damon, I really like you. And when you do things like eat the small things I cook for you because you get stupid cravings, and text me late at night even though you're at the other end of the estate, or when you hold me like this…" she trails off, breathing in my shirt and I close my eyes, realizing how much I missed all this, just because I decided to put space between us. "It's hard for me not to like you even more. Even if you act like a jerk when you freak out."

"I'm sorry," I card my hands through her curls, rubbing the tips of my fingers against her scalp. She hums in response, and I think I might have too. "What is it about you, Elena? Tell me, because I don't get it. Is it the way you smell? I swear," I pause, resting my cheek against her head and pulling her even closer, "I can breathe you for hours, even when you're not there. It's like you're _inside_ me."

She snorts and I can feel her like a heartbeat in my chest.

There's laughter, yes, but there's also her mouth against the pulse of my neck and I can't do a damn thing but swallow hard. Really _hard_.

And I'm seriously about to lose it.

I lean back, forcing her to look at me, and I let my eyes dissect her once more. I need to make sure she's here and not a figment of my imagination. Make sure all of this is real.

She smiles and she's never looked more beautiful to me. I hold her face in my hands, feel her arms around my neck, and she's so soft it makes my head spin. But not in a bad way. Not in a bad way _at_ _all_.

She doesn't turn away or flinch as I stare at her. She absorbs it. She takes me in.

"How do you do that?" I ask, pressing my forehead against hers and sliding my nose along hers.

"Do what?" she says slowly, like she's dazed, and I can take in each breath Elena wastes, letting them fill my lungs with how close she is. I close my eyes, her exhale is my inhale and I'm breathing her breath. My thoughts are spiraling into incoherence. I don't know where I am. I don't know who I am. I just know that nothing has ever felt more right. "Damon…"

"Mm-hmm." It's not an answer but to hell with questions and answers. All I can think about is devouring her and drowning in her.

"You were going to tell me something…"

"I don't remember," I mumble and pull away slightly so I can see her again. I fix my eyes on hers, and the sight alone is enough to pump my blood with fresh desire.

I think it's the last thing I can handle.

I'm barely hanging on right now.

I let my arms fall back to her waist and her hands grip my shirt. She can rip it if she wants, I don't care. She bumps up her body against mine in a sudden aggressive attempt to pull me closer and I'm loving every fucking second of this moment. She can do whatever it takes to get closer to me.

I've finally found what I've been searching my whole life and I push all warnings trying to pop in my head. It's my turn to take. And give, all at once. I don't want anything else to exist or come between us.

It's just us. Just her.

I have the urge to cover her mouth with mine so I lift my head, and I can tell she's holding her breath. I touch her cheek and drift my fingers across her smooth skin as she closes her eyes.

There's no more fighting it. No more denying it. Everything fades away, the pain, the regrets, all the troubles of the outside world, until there's only one thing left.

 _Elena_.

"Damon…" she whispers, biting her bottom lip, and my name alone sends me into another realm. I glide my thumb over her lip to free it from her hold and her eyes pop open. She blushes, and I have to keep myself together. "Before you do anything else, I want you to know you're the most freakin' incredible-"

Elena's voice is enough to push me over the edge so I don't let her finish her sentence. I lean in and settle my mouth on hers, a trembling sigh leaving her. I _can't_ control myself anymore and I capture it with one kiss. A simple, soft and quick kiss.

Neither of us moves, and my lips linger but she doesn't let me go.

She lifts her hand from my neck to caress my jaw, sliding her fingers into my hair. My cock throbs in my pants and I wonder if she has any idea of how much she owns me. She's probably reading my mind as I steal another kiss, because I can feel her smile against my mouth. I'm holding everything back and it's fucking slaying me dead, but when she drags her fingers against my scalp, I let it go and I growl.

 _Growl_.

Like a beast instead of a fucking man.

Her lips part on a gasp and I slide my tongue inside her mouth with no hesitation, tangling it with hers, and I explore everything she's willing to offer me. She moans adorably, and I sink in farther and _hell yeah_. She tastes better than I could have even imagined. Like the delicacy of a forbidden candy. Like summer breaking a through a fall day. So damn sweet. Unbelievably sweet. Elena is honey on my tongue and there's no stopping me right now. She smells so good, always so good, and she feels so good and she's in my arms and I don't ever want it to stop.

I want so many things. Like kissing her softly and treating her like the treasure she is, but I can't. What I feel is _carnal_.

I press my mouth harder, deeper and faster against hers because I want to suffocate, and she thinks the same as she slams her tongue into my mouth, doing all kind of fancy moves with it. Her hand curls into my skin, clutching me desperately and I bring her even more closer.

My lips bite hers gently and she makes the sexiest moan I've ever heard. What little blood that's left in my brain drains straight to my cock and the more we kiss, the more I want.

And _more_ she gives me…

I'm _gone_.

Completely gone.

I absorb her essence into my very being, I'm so drunk on all of her and all she's giving me and I'm drowning.

In this exact moment, I know I don't want to go back to a life where Elena isn't part of it. She makes me forget everything, and all I can focus on is the present. She's soft and warm in my arms, pressed against me from head to toe. She's in my arms and she's kissing me.

Elena is too damn intoxicating.

She slows down, but her mouth is still glued to mine, sweet and confident. She takes her time, devouring me like I'm her favorite candy and sending thrills through my nervous system. It's short-circuiting. She slides one of her legs between mine, the top of her thigh brushing along the shaft of my dick and fuck, I need to get control of myself.

I'm just afraid that if I open my eyes, I'll realize this was all a dream. But when I do, she's here and it's real. I pull back slightly, resting my cheek against the side of her head, and let her catch her breath as I whisper, "You're ruining me…"

I stare down at her soft lips, swollen from our kiss, and run a thumb across them. I feel Elena shudder when I touch her, or maybe it's me, I don't know. I kiss her forehead and look in her eyes. She offers me the smallest grin and I can't help but smile because fuck, kissing her is an experience of another level.

"I'm not good, Elena. I screwed up so many times," I say against her the corner of her mouth and she shakes her head, jumping on my hips and wrapping her legs around my waist, and _holy_ _shit_. I stumble back a step and tuck my arms under her thighs to hold her up. I somehow manage to turn us around so I'm the one leaning against the wall, and I bite at her chin.

She giggles and I'm gone in another world. "You are," she breathes against my ear. "So good, you can't even see it yourself. Everything will be fine."

I dip my head to her neck and start peppering soft kisses on her skin, and I won't ever be able to let go of her. Elena is the only one I've ever let in, and I don't want anyone else. I've only known her for a month and everything is going fast, but we have this _thing_. It's like she belongs with me and I belong with her. An invisible thread connecting us. And now it's stronger and pulling us even closer.

I can't explain it, don't want to question it. She just makes me so drunk, high… _careless_.

She moans, her nails running through my hair, gripping the strands and each touch is a burning trail across my skin. I feel tingling everywhere and my legs start to give out. I hold her tighter to me and slide us down the wall, groaning until my ass touch the floor. She laughs and her knees settle on each side of my hips, her butt resting against my thighs and every single muscle is straining.

The only thing separating us is clothes.

Damn clothes.

I plant one last kiss under the line of her jaw and lean my head against the wall so our gazes meet. And I'm in awe at what's in front of me. How crazy is that I had to go all the way around the world to meet the girl of my dreams, when my entire life she's been a few hours away and I never even knew her?

I run my hand beneath her hair, cupping her head and drawing her to me. "It's illegal for someone to be as beautiful as you are."

"So arrest me," Elena giggles and I swear, her sounds will be the death of me. She bites her lip and I can't avoid a moan when she presses her hips further into mine.

I don't think I've ever been this hard in my life. I can barely function.

"As soon as you stop doing that," I say, smirking, and when she gives me that naughty look, I know damn too well what's coming. She does it again, and I'm able to contain my moan this time, but it still feels _so_ _good_ , and she looks so damn sexy.

The friction becomes too much and I eventually hold her hips still. Because as I much as I want this with her, it's not just about sex. It's about her and how she makes me feel. And I don't want her to think otherwise or feel any pressure. So I really look at her and tell her everything with my eyes, and she seems to understand when she gives me a shy nod in return.

"What do we do now?" she asks, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips and I fucking love those lips. Our mouths are inches apart and I let my hand curve around the back of her neck, stroking her skin. She shivers against me and I've never felt more alive.

"Tell me what you want to do," I manage to say. It's really hard to do anything when she's this close.

Her smile turns into a smug grin and I am the luckiest son of a bitch when she orders me to kiss her again.

I capture her mouth and it's even more mind blowing than the first time. It's slow and I take my time re-exploring her lips, kissing the corners and nibbling on her bottom one. I lick the seam of her mouth and her little pink tongue dart out to meet mine, before she lets it prod my lips, trying to get my mouth open and it works like a charm.

No doubt about who's in charge.

And I'm more than okay with that.

The tips of my finger trail down her back until I meet bare skin where her shirt is hitched up in the back. She wriggles against me when I touch her there, and she gasps. I ghost my fingers over the same spot again and she starts giggling.

"Ticklish?" I mumble between kisses and she barely manages to say yes before fusing her mouth to mine once again, like we're two magnets. I laugh low at her lack of patience and she groans.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. Just keep kissing me."

A small chuckle escapes from her mouth, flying around us and it sends into another fucking dimension that I'll never leave. She pushes a finger against my lips, and I kiss it and nip at it. "I'm trying to," she whispers, "But you won't shut up."

I grin against her mouth and suck on her tongue, swallowing her moan as she brings my face closer, as if she can't get enough. And I know the feeling.

Elena kisses me hard, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm needed, like I have something worth fighting for.

"God, Damon…" she murmurs and I shush her, sucking her lip inside my mouth before letting it pop out and claiming her lips again.

I lean in and wrap my arms around Elena. I'm melting against her and I swear to God, I can kiss her forever.

And I never want to forget this moment.

* * *

 **A/N: What just happened? ;)**

 **As always, thank you SO MUCH to those that have left reviews and to all those that have recently followed/favorited the story.** **I really do appreciate it and I eagerly look forward to reading the reviews after each chapter.**

 **I will see you next time!**


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